


Blood Debts

by QXZ



Category: Spenser Series - Robert B. Parker
Genre: Gen, Gun Violence, Murder, Stalking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-10 00:34:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 37,836
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27614939
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QXZ/pseuds/QXZ
Summary: A Hawk Novella.  When Spenser is out of town on an extended trip to the Far East, it's up to Boston's number one enforcer to take up the slack.  Rita Fiore, once one of the Commonwealth's fiercest prosecutors, is now in private practice and enjoying the rewards of her labors as a senior partner in one of Boston's most prestigious law firms.  And life couldn't be grander.  At least that's the case until two men try to grab her one morning while she's out for a jog.  They don't succeed, but when word reaches Hawk, he makes it his personal mission to protect her and find out who was behind the attack.  Soon both he and the police realize that there's more going on than they know, and more than Rita is willing to tell.  As the body count adds up and the cops become increasingly frustrated, the only person Rita can trust with the truth is a man she has known for years but barely knows at all.  For Hawk it's a lot less complicated, and nothing that he can't resolve with a long barreled .44...
Kudos: 1





	Blood Debts

**Blood Debts**

A Hawk Novella

_Stellen Qxz_

Copyright **©** 2018 by Stellen Qxz

3rd Man Publications

All rights reserved. No part of this work may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination, or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or institutions or events, is entirely coincidental. (And you just try to prove otherwise!)

Author’s Note:

I originally began this story after the death of Robert B. Parker in 2010 as a sort of tribute to one of my favorite writers. However, as I got further into the story I began to feel that I was speaking with another man’s voice, using his creations for my own purposes, and instead of feeling as if I was honoring Mr. Parker, I felt like I was using him. This was coupled with the fact that at the time I was ending a series of novels I had written and not sure what I wanted to do next made me shelve the project. I would not start writing again until 2012, and at that time I went back to the series I had thought I was finished writing. In the summer of 2018 I pulled this story out, gave it a read, and loved it. It was already forty-seven chapters and just needed an ending. It is not how I originally envisioned it, however I do believe that Mr. Parker would have appreciated it, and I think it is a fitting tribute to a man who meant so much to me as a writer and inspiration.

—SQ (August 2018)

<https://payhip.com/StellenQxz>

Robert B. Parker, the master and the inspiration.

#  _Chapter 1_

“Cops _sho’_ do like to ask a lotta questions,” Hawk said.

“Well, Hawk, you did just shoot four people,” Spenser said.

“I only shot three,” Hawk said.

“Well okay,” Spenser said. “Shot three, bludgeoned one with the barrel of that field artillery piece under your jacket. Happy now?”

“’Course. You know us brothers like to keep our records straight when dealin’ with the white man.”

Spenser snorted and turned to stare at the gathering of cops a few feet away. Hawk saw all the regulars were there. Quirk, Belson, even the one a little light in the shoes, Lee Farrell. All of them doing just what cops do after people get killed. Put up yellow tape and start asking everybody what they saw.

Spenser and Hawk had already answered a whole bunch of questions, and Hawk knew they weren’t done yet. Marty Quirk was running this scene personally and that man didn’t let anything go. It was his job and he was good at it. What’s more, he liked it. Took pride in doing it right.

A few minutes later, Quirk turned and looked at them, then glanced at Belson and said something. Belson nodded and then said something to Farrell.

Belson and Farrell came over to them, Belson chewing on the back end of a tiny cheap cigar.

“What’s the word?” Spenser said.

“Word is you and Hawk are bad for the department’s crime stats,” the Boston Homicide sergeant said, looking directly at Hawk as he spoke to Spenser. “But the captain thinks maybe you did the world a little good by dusting those bozos. Seeing as how they were trying to take out an esteemed member of our state’s fine legislature.”

Lee Farrell grinned.

“Yeah, even if he is a homophobe and a demagogue, and made all of his money by marrying and divorcing several very wealthy women in the Commonwealth.”

“The American Dream,” Spenser said cheerily.

Belson shook his head.

“New American Dream. Anyhow, looks like you two are off the hook. Everybody backs your version of things, including the senator. Guys got what was coming to them. So Marty says you two can go, but adds that you shouldn’t leave town right away. Just in case something else turns up.”

“Yeah,” Farrell said with another grin. “Like we come up with a witness that says you guys attacked and killed them unprovoked.”

Spenser stared at the younger detective for a moment, then nodded.

“Well let me know if such a person shows up,” he said, glancing over at Hawk, and then back at Farrell. “Because I’m sure my friend here would love to have a quiet conversation with them.”

Farrell stopped smiling then, probably realizing that the expression on Hawk’s dark face suggested that he was not in the mood for jokes. Truth be told, the expression meant nothing. Not much mattered to Hawk. Not much bothered him one way or the other. He didn’t care what people said or believed or laughed or joked about. It was a free country. Just as long as somebody didn’t get on the wrong side of him and a job. Like those four dead fools running around calling themselves _Urban Warriors_ did tonight.

Belson repeated his instructions from Quirk, saying that they could go, and Spenser and Hawk turned and did just that.

“Where your client at?” Hawk said as they climbed into the front seat of his brand new Escalade, sleek and black, just like its owner.

“On his way home with an escort from the State Police. Healy arranged it.”

“Didn’t see him here,” Hawk said.

“He wasn’t, but one of his guys was. Muscled black guy in the gray suit, military style haircut and mustache. Detective lieutenant with the Staties. One of Healy’s right-hands.”

Hawk nodded, putting the Caddy in gear.

“Must be nice being a state police captain. Most normal folks I know only got one right hand.”

Spenser grinned and put his head back against the rest.

“Well look at us, _Tonto_. We both have two right hands.”

Hawk didn’t say anything as he drove through the intersection and turned right on a red light.

A minute went by before he nodded.

“And four really mean right hooks.”

Spenser grinned again and closed his eyes.

“And then there are the jabs…”

#  _Chapter 2_

The restaurant was called Pagliuca’s and was located on Parmenter Street in the North End. Susan and Spenser were already there when Hawk arrived with his date, Stephanie, a statuesque brown skinned woman with jet black hair, a wide mouth, and sharp, intelligent eyes. She was a CPA and a part-time instructor at Boston College, and she was also rather taken with Hawk.

Everyone already knew each other so the greetings were more intimate. Spenser stood and kissed Stephanie on the cheek as Hawk leaned down to kiss Susan on the side of the mouth. Then everyone sat and a waitress came over to take drink orders. Susan had a Vodka gimlet and Stephanie decided to try one as well. Spenser ordered a bottle of Rolling Rock while Hawk opted for a glass of the Krug non-vintage champagne.

“So according to what I saw on the news,” Susan said while glancing over at Hawk across the top of her glass, “it seems that a group of very dastardly individuals really had it in for Senator Moxley. And if some unknown persons had not intervened, the senator would be pushing up daisies right now.”

Hawk’s smile was nearly imperceptible as he stared back at her, sipping his champagne. Seated next to him, Stephanie turned sideways and stared as well.

Spenser took another swallow of his beer and sighed.

“Damn media never gets anything right,” he said in his best Bogart voice. “They should have said ‘were it not for the _Great White Hope_ and his faithful companion, _Black Beauty,_ then all would have been lost’.”

Hawk set his glass down and glanced over at Stephanie.

“How your gimlet?” he said.

“Good,” she said. “So that was you and Spenser then? Stopped those guys from killing the senator?”

“Might have been,” he said.

Stephanie shook her head, then smiled despite not wanting to.

“God, Hawk, sometimes I just don’t know what I’m gonna do with you.”

This time Hawk’s smile was more pronounced, at least as pronounced as it would ever be in Hawk’s world.

“Well I’m sure we can think of something,” he said.

Stephanie stared back at him for maybe ten seconds before bursting into laughter and reaching over to touch his thigh underneath the table.

Susan was smiling, too, and looked over at Spenser sitting next to her wearing a dark blue suit, white shirt, and red striped tie.

“I like the tie,” she said.

“You should,” he said. “Seeing as how you gave it to me.”

“Well I thought you should have at least one decent one. And one that was fitting with the current style. Kind of hard to find in your neck size, big boy, but you know how much I like a challenge.”

“I’ve heard that about you, little lady. Maybe even read it on a bathroom wall somewhere.”

“Really,” Susan replied sweetly, her long lashes fluttering. “Didn’t know you could read much beyond the funny papers.”

“Well I am trying to expand my horizons a little,” Spenser said.

“Good to know,” she said. “And perhaps I can help with that.”

“I was hoping you’d say that. Got any plans for tonight, toots?”

Susan smiled and reached over to touch his hand on the table.

“Big plans, big fella.”

“Speaking of plans,” Hawk said, finishing his champagne as the waitress came over with the bottle to refill his glass. “How that Japan thing coming?”

Susan turned toward him, still resting her hand on Spenser’s.

“Two weeks and counting,” she said. “Then I’ll be off to the exotic orient, exploring all the mysteries of the Far East.”

“And you still taking the Neanderthal along?” Hawk said.

“I thought about leaving him at home,” Susan said, “but he might scratch up the furniture if he’s by himself too long. Not to mention hump anything that moves.”

“Not anything that moves,” Spenser chided. “Maybe a table leg here and there, a keyhole once and a while.”

Susan grinned again and squeezed his hand.

“Yeah, and in order to keep all keyholes in Boston safe for the next three months, I’m going to take my honey buns with me. I just hope the city can get along without him for that long.”

“We might have to slip out of town,” Spenser told her earnestly. “Because once word leaks that I’ve left the city limits, all the bad guys will rally and the cops might have to send for federal troops. I’m sure if the governor knew I was planning on being away for a quarter of a year, he’d sign emergency orders instructing the National Guard not to let me across the state lines.”

“More likely he’d sign a declaration permanently barring you from returning to the Commonwealth,” Hawk said, finishing his second glass of champagne. “And declare your departure as a statewide holiday.”

Spenser gave Hawk a withering look.

“I’m sure you’re mistaken, sir. You know how highly my name is regarded in this town.”

“Right up there with the clap,” Hawk said.

Spenser grinned, Hawk smiled, raising his once again refilled glass of Krug.

“Town ain’t gonna be the same without the two of you in it for a while.”

Susan raised her glass toward him.

“We’re going to miss you like hell, too, snookems.”

They both stared deeply into one another’s eyes for several long moments, so much being said without words, and then Spenser and Stephanie raised their glasses, too, and everyone toasted and drank.

After that, they ordered dinner and had a good time talking about nothing in particular.

All in all a perfect night.

#  _Chapter 3_

Stephanie was breathless, covered in perspiration, and she was the most excited she had been in her entire life. She also thought that if it were possible to die from pleasure then she might do so this very night.

“Oh, god, Hawk! Are you trying to kill me?”

“Not at all, missy,” Hawk grinned, raising his head and kissing her full lips, his eyes cool and playful. “But you might just get to heaven tonight.”

Before she could respond, Hawk went back to doing what he had been doing and Stephanie went back to biting her lower lip and squirming with delight.

Later she could breathe again, and most of the perspiration had dried on her skin. She went to the bathroom and had now returned, lying on her side in the crook of Hawk’s powerful right arm, her head against his bare ebony skin.

“Well that dessert we had earlier just got worked off tonight, so I don’t need to worry about that anymore,” Stephanie said with a grin.

“You didn’t need to worry about it anyway,” Hawk told her. “And you know it. You got a great body, girl. Just the right portions for a man to hold on to.”

Stephanie snorted and laughed.

“Anybody else said that to me and I’d be kicking them out of this bed right now, Mister.”

“Just tellin’ the truth,” Hawk said.

“And you always tell the truth?” she said.

“’Cept when I lie,” he said.

Stephanie raised her head and stared down at him.

“Ever lie to me?”

“Not that you’d ever find out.”

“I’m not sure how I should take that.”

Hawk stared up at her for a few moments.

“Take it as it is,” he said simply, then turned and glanced at the bedside clock.

Stephanie followed his gaze and looked at the clock as well.

“Two o’clock. You gonna leave now?”

“Think so,” Hawk said.

Stephanie shook her head and pulled away from him, turning onto her side and drawing her knees up.

“You never stay the night, Hawk. And you won’t tell me why. You know a girl could start to develop hurt feelings after a while.”

Hawk sighed and pushed the covers off. He stood up and slowly rotated his neck from side to side a few times, then turned to stare at Stephanie lying with her back to him. Personally he liked her, but she didn’t mean any more to him than any other woman he had slept with, and he knew this wasn’t something she wanted or needed to hear right now. Best to leave it. They had both enjoyed the night, especially the after dinner festivities, no need to hang around for the part that would leave them both unhappy. Especially her. So he picked up his clothes and went into the bathroom to wash and dress.

Twenty minutes later he was in his Escalade on a cool Boston early morning with light snow falling all around him. All in all the perfect ending for the weekend.

#  _Chapter 4_

On a Sunday evening two weeks later, Hawk drove Spenser and Susan to the airport and said good bye to them as they departed on their trip to Japan where Susan would be spending the next three months as a visiting professor of psychology at Tokyo University; and Spenser would be doing god knew what, probably terrifying the locals with his impersonation of Godzilla.

After leaving them at the airport, Hawk drove Pearl the Wonder Dog over to Lee Farrell’s place where she would be spending the majority of her time over the next three months, with occasional visits from Uncle Hawk.

Then Hawk spent the rest of the day at his place overlooking Boston’s inner harbor watching college ball and cleaning various and sundry firearms from his personal arsenal; at least one of them.

Monday morning was cold and snowy, but this did not keep Hawk from getting up early and heading out for a long run along the harbor. He only lived about a mile from the Harbor Health Club but ran five miles past it before doubling back and returning to the club. It was early still and only a few others were there when Hawk arrived, along with the venerable and height-challenged owner, Henry Cimoli. He greeted Hawk as he came in and then quickly moved on to his office to get started on some paperwork that he needed to take care of.

Hawk went to the locker room and stripped out of his running clothes and put on shorts and a black T-shirt with the sleeves cut off, then he went into the small workout room in back that Henry had set aside with a couple of heavy bags, a speed bag, and some jump ropes. A tribute to his past in the boxing ring, and Hawk’s and Spenser’s.

Two hours later Hawk was still in there working away on one of the heavy bags. Every so often, he’d move over to the speed bag and spend about five minutes making it bounce. No one else entered the room while he worked out, but a few did pass by to observe, mostly intrigued female clients of the Health Club who would stand and watch Hawk with gleeful expressions on their smooth faces. Occasionally Hawk would turn and grin at one of them, never breaking his easy rhythm as he worked on the bags. Then he’d move over and jump rope for a while.

He had just put the jump rope down and was lacing up his gloves for another round with the heavy bag when Henry Cimoli stepped in, his dark eyes serious.

“Hawk, you better come to my office and see this.”

Hawk stared at the little ex-prize fighter and nodded, taking his gloves off once more and dropping them on the floor, taking his towel from the back of the door as he followed Henry out of the room and down the short hallway to his office in back.

The flat screen TV mounted on the wall across from Henry’s large desk was turned on and there was a news report playing. Henry went to the desk and got the remote, turning the sound back up.

“…and the police are being tight-lipped about the exact nature of the incident, however, as reported a few moments ago, sources have confirmed that one of the involved parties is a former Boston-area prosecutor and current partner in the law firm of Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin by the name of Rita Fiore. It is believed that Ms. Fiore was injured in the incident but the extent of her injuries is not known at this time. Sources also report that she was taken to Mass General but could not confirm more than…”

Henry turned to Hawk, but by this time, Boston’s top enforcer had already vanished from the room. Henry shook his head as a slight chill went up his spine. He knew where Hawk was going, and was pretty sure what he was going to do when he got there; and wherever else he ended up going after that.

Somebody was in a whole lot of trouble right now.

And may they rest in peace… eventually, the little gym owner thought as he turned his attention back to the TV.

#  _Chapter 5_

Hawk ran home and showered, changed, then got his SUV and drove the two and a half miles over to Mass General Hospital on Fruit Street, parking in a No-Parking zone in the deck across the street and then walking over to the Emergency entrance where he found several uniformed police officers gathered near the front. They stared at him warily but Hawk appeared to pay them no attention, casually strolling inside and looking around.

One of the cops said something to another and then turned back to Hawk, squaring his shoulders before walking over, his buddies backing him up.

“Can we help you?” the cop said, trying to sound a lot braver than he felt. “This entrance is for emergencies only, or official personnel. You don’t look like either to me.”

Hawk glanced at the man briefly, his dark face completely empty, a sight that was absolutely terrifying for many, and the cops gathered before him were no different. A couple of them put their hands on their weapons as Hawk continued to stand quietly and survey the surroundings.

“He’s good,” a voice called from over Hawk’s right shoulder. “Leave him alone.”

The officer who had been speaking turned left and came to full attention as Marty Quirk stepped off the elevator and approached.

“Captain,” the cop said. “We just---”

“No need to explain, Murphy,” Quirk said. “And I told you, he’s good. Now you men get back out on your beats. No need to be hanging around here. My guys got it now.”

Officer Murphy and his buddies nodded sternly and immediately moved off. After all, Quirk was a captain and the Homicide commander. Uniforms didn’t question the orders of the brass, and especially not somebody as scary as Quirk could be in his own right.

“Figured you might show once this hit the news,” Quirk said to Hawk.

“Was at Henry’s place when he come got me. News was on, heard Rita was hurt.”

“So with our resident White Knight out of town you figured to take up the slack?” Quirk said. “Our Black Knight?”

“I prefer Ebony Knight, Captain. Now suppose we quit kicking it around and you tell me what happened.”

Quirk eyed the taller and leaner man for a few long moments. Most people were afraid of Hawk, or at least a little careful when they were around him. But Marty Quirk was one of the few who wasn’t. He was a man who had seen his share of tough characters in his more than thirty years on the job, and nothing scared him anymore. Even so, he knew what a man like Hawk was capable of, and as a result, he knew it was best not to piss him off if it could be avoided.

Quirk inclined his head and then turned. Hawk followed him over to the elevators and they rode up to the sixth floor in silence. When the doors opened, Quirk got off and turned left. Hawk followed.

Down the hall on the right, another uniformed officer stood in front of a door. Quirk walked past him and into another room a few doors down. The room was empty and Quirk took off his overcoat and put it on the bed, turning to face Hawk.

Hawk closed the door to the room and stood with his back to it, his hands folded in front of him, his complete attention on the homicide cop.

“Rita was jogging near Harvard Gardens on Cambridge Street around six this morning when a couple of guys drove up in a stolen SUV and tried to grab her. Unfortunately for them, Rita took judo lessons back when she was in the DA’s office. She did a pretty good job fucking them up until one of them cold-cocked her with a sap. They almost had her in the back of the SUV but then two Good Samaritans showed up and intervened. Unfortunately for them the two guys were carrying knives. Both Samaritans went down. One’s dead and the other is hanging on. Probably won’t make it either.”

“They had knives but didn’t use them on Rita?” Hawk said.

“Yeah,” Quirk said.

“So that mean they didn’t want to kill her,” Hawk said.

“Could be,” Quirk said. “At least maybe they didn’t want to kill her right then. Maybe later.”

“Rita know them?”

“She says no. Didn’t get a real good look at them. Still dark and the snow was heavy. They had on heavy winter clothes, including knit caps rolled down on their ears.”

“She been gettin’ threats lately?”

“No,” Quirk said. “According to Ms. Fiore she has no idea why anybody would want to kidnap or kill her. Other than the obvious, her past as a prosecutor, perhaps something to do with a case since she’s been in private practice these last ten years. She handles a lot of criminal cases, and not all of her clients are happy with their results.”

“She give you any leads there?”

Quirk smiled coldly.

“She’s a lawyer, Hawk. Don’t matter that she’s got a nice set of legs and an ass you can bounce a quarter off of—or whatever else you might want to bounce. She ain’t telling us squat about her clients. Stuff from the DA’s office I can get and I’ve got Frank already pulling cases. But if it is something from her private practice then it’s gonna be difficult. Privilege and all. You know Rita, she’s not going to violate her oath even if her life’s at stake.”

Hawk was quiet, staring at Quirk intently. Then he nodded slowly.

“You gonna protect her?”

“If she were still a DA we could officially offer her protection,” the Homicide captain said at length. “But since she isn’t, and the city is so overstretched on its budget already…” Quirk spread his hands out before him.

Hawk nodded.

“So if I hadn’t happened by…”

“I was gonna give you another ten minutes,” Quirk told him.

Both men stared at one another for a long time. Quirk smiled first, small, barely detectable, but a smile nonetheless.

And then Hawk.

“All right, let’s go see her.”

Quirk nodded and picked up his coat, then led the way out.

#  _Chapter 6_

Rita was sitting on the bed in the private room that was being guarded by the uniformed cop when Quirk and Hawk walked in. She was wearing a green hospital gown and sat with her knees together.

She looked up when the door opened and was about to say something to Marty Quirk when she saw Hawk beyond his left shoulder. Suddenly her manner changed, and she forced a smile.

“Well, well, if it isn’t my bald Sir Galahad,” she said. “Don’t tell me Marty dragged you into this?”

Hawk shut the door and leaned against it. Quirk moved over and stood next to the bed, his coat resting over his left arm.

“Nobody drag me nowhere I don’t want to go, baby girl,” Hawk told her with a grin. “You ought to know that by now.”

Rita’s smile faltered. She glanced at Quirk, then back at Hawk.

“Really, Hawk, I appreciate your coming. But like I told Marty, this was probably some random thing, an attempted mugging or something. Probably had nothing to do with me. Just unlucky to be where I was at the time.”

Hawk stared at her without saying anything. After a few moments Rita became uncomfortable and glanced away. When she looked at Quirk she got the same stare and turned away from him as well.

After a few minutes Hawk pushed off the door and walked over to the bed, stopping directly in front of Rita.

He reached down and took her hands, pulling them up to his chest. Rita sat there looking down for a while longer, then he reached down and gently raised her chin with a single finger. Her eyes were full of tears and she collapsed against his chest and sobbed for a long time.

Neither Quirk nor Hawk said a thing, just waited patiently until she had herself under control once more.

“God I haven’t cried like that in ages,” Rita said as she blew her nose into a tissue. “And now I must look a mess.”

Hawk grinned.

“You as beautiful as ever, hot stuff.”

Rita laughed and touched his chest again.

“I know you’re lying, but thank you anyway.”

“So you want to tell us about it now?”

Rita took a deep breath and released it slowly. Then she sat still for a few moments more.

“I want to go home, Hawk,” she said in a small voice. “I just want to go home and shower and get ready for work. I’ve got some things to do at the office today and this has fucked everything up. I don’t want to think about any of it right now.”

“Somebody out there wants to hurt you, Rita,” Marty Quirk said forcefully. “You know it and so do we. You can’t ignore this and hope it goes away. You know this wasn’t random. They came for you specifically. They had weapons and didn’t use them until two guys tried to come to your aid. They didn’t want to kill you, they wanted to abduct you. Means you aren’t safe. They could come for you again.”

“But they won’t get her, Captain,” Hawk said flatly. “You know that now.”

Quirk and Rita both looked at Hawk.

“Hawk, you don’t have---”

Hawk put his finger against her lips.

“But I do,” he said directly. “And I’m going to. I don’t care if you tell what this is about or not. Until we know you safe I ain’t gonna let you go nowhere without protection. And since I be the best there is in these parts, missy, that means I’m gonna be coverin’ you all the way.”

Rita suddenly grinned.

“Well I have to admit that I do like the part about you _covering_ me.”

Hawk nodded, smiling a little.

“Then it settled. Right, Captain?”

Quirk shook his head and sighed.

“Fine. That takes care of her being protected. But what about finding out who did this and why? Let’s not forget the two guys that got stabbed here.”

“And I sure you won’t forget that, Captain,” Hawk drawled. “You the Homicide commander after all. I and the good citizens of the Commonwealth have complete faith in you and your men.”

Rita was trying not to laugh, but failed horribly.

Quirk stood shaking his head and finally snorted and left the room.

When they were alone Hawk turned to Rita and fixed her with a hard stare.

“You do know what this is about, don’t you?” he said. “But you don’t want to say for some reason? That okay. Don’t really matter to me. Just as long as you safe. But know this, eventually Quirk will get to it, he always do. You know that he the best at what he do. And he ain’t gonna give up, not with bodies involved. Probably be more before this is over now that I’m in it. So any time you feel you want to say, just do. Okay?”

Rita stared at him for several moments before nodding, then she reached out and took his hands, holding them in her lap.

“Thank you,” she said in a small voice.

He nodded.

Rita leaned forward and closed her eyes. After a brief hesitation, Hawk leaned down and kissed her on the lips.

Rita smiled then and opened her eyes.

“Now that makes up for everything that’s happened this morning,” she said, then laughed.

Hawk pulled his hands from her lap and went back to lean against the door.

“So you can get dressed and I’ll wait outside, then take you home.”

Rita grinned again.

“Or you could stay in here and help me get dressed,” she teased.

“Well you already had one shock to the system this morning,” Hawk told her casually. “No need to get you any further excited, your heart might not be able to take it.”

“But I’d die with a smile on my face.”

“Yeah, you would,” Hawk told her, then turned and walked out of the room.

#  _Chapter 7_

Rita lived less than a mile from Mass General down on Revere Street. She had a condo on the second floor of a recently restored Colonial. It was nearly ten-thirty when they arrived and Hawk made her stay in the front passenger’s seat of his Escalade while he got out and looked around first. Once he was satisfied that no one was lying in wait, he opened the door and she climbed out.

When they reached her place he had her wait in the hall until he checked it as well, then told her it was safe when he was satisfied that it was.

The only clothes she had had at the hospital were the dirty sweats and jacket she’d been wearing when the attack had occurred. There were mud and grass stains all over them and when she entered her condo Rita immediately started stripping out of them, apparently not in the least bit self-conscious to be doing so in front of Hawk, who was securing the front door at the time.

She glanced back over her shoulder after removing her top, her green sports bra the only thing covering her well-toned upper body.

“I’m gonna go shower now,” she said with a grin. “And just in case you’re wondering, it’s big enough for two.”

“Wasn’t wondering,” Hawk told her as he walked further into the front room, glancing around. “But good information to have.”

Rita continued to stand and stare at him for a few moments more, then turned and headed down the hallway toward the back. Hawk walked around the front room for a few minutes, paying particular attention to the windows and their locks, then he moved on to explore the rest of the place, save for the back bedroom and bathroom.

Rita was ready in an hour. Now fully attired in a gray power suit, pants today, which was a little disappointing to Hawk because she really did have a fantastic set of legs.

“Nice pants,” Hawk said.

Rita grinned.

“Nice of you to notice, big fella,” she said, stopping directly in front of him and staring up into his eyes. “Didn’t feel like a skirt today. Too cold. But if you plan on hanging around me for a while, I’m sure we can work something out.”

“Good to know. People at your office know about this morning?”

Rita sighed and nodded.

“Had to call in after I heard it was on the news. Managing partner told me to take the day but I told him I couldn’t. Got some things I need to do. And I’m fine.”

Hawk stood and stared down at her for a few moments, his face completely devoid of anything. Then he nodded.

“You say so.”

Rita Fiore sighed again and then went to get her purse and briefcase off the dining room table. Then they left.

#  _Chapter 8_

Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin has a big high-rise near Rowe’s Warf overlooking the harbor. When they arrived, Hawk parked his Escalade in the spot in the private deck that was reserved for Rita and then they took the elevator up to the thirty-fourth floor where Rita’s office was located.

Several people stared at her with concern, a few asking if she was all right. Rita assured them that she was and continued on to her corner office with Hawk at her back, glancing all around, seeing everything and everyone.

Everyone noticed Hawk. It was impossible not to. He was a presence unlike any other. And everyone was careful not to make direct eye contact with him, too.

As Rita entered her office suite, a young woman in a power suit of her own, this one dark green, stood from the desk in the outer office, her face also full of concern. Her name was Estelle and she was Rita’s personal assistant. Or at least one of them because there were three other desks in the room, but all unoccupied at the moment.

“I’m fine, Estelle,” Rita said to the other woman. “Really. And where is everybody else?”

“Running errands,” Estelle said somewhat timidly, glancing uncertainly at Hawk. “If you need someone I can…”

Rita waved a hand at her.

“No,” she said. “I don’t need anyone right now. Messages?”

Estelle handed her several pink message slips.

“The top one is from Mr. Briggs,” she said. “He wants to see you as soon as you’re able.”

Rita looked at the messages and nodded, then glanced at Hawk.

“Estelle, this is my friend, Hawk. He’s a private consultant and will be working closely with me for the next few days. Perhaps longer. I want to make it clear to everyone that he is not to be harassed or bothered in any way. Is that understood?”

“Yes, ma’am,” the younger woman said, glancing once again at Hawk.

He smiled at her but said nothing.

Estelle smiled back, a little less timidly this time.

“Good to meet you, sir.”

“Likewise, Estelle.”

“Can I get you something?”

Hawk stared directly into her soft brown eyes for a few moments, still smiling.

“Not right now,” he said. “But definitely later.”

Estelle blushed and Rita shook her head.

“Well I’d like some coffee, Estelle,” she said, turning for her office. “If it’s not too much trouble for you.”

“Oh no, Ms. Fiore. Right away.”

Estelle left the room after that and Hawk followed Rita into her much larger and better furnished office.

He closed the door and looked around.

“Nice being a partner in a big Boston firm,” Hawk said, moving over to the sofa on the front wall and sitting down casually, long legs outstretched.

Rita put her purse and briefcase down on the desk and glanced over at him.

“It is,” she said. “And in case you’re wondering, Estelle is only twenty-three. Just started Harvard Law. A baby really.”

“A baby with a nice set of legs,” Hawk replied. “Not a bad chest either.”

Rita snorted and sat down, still studying the message slips.

“Well if you’re into that sort of thing.”

“I am,” Hawk said.

Rita shook her head, trying not to smile, but unable to help it.

Hawk looked around the office some more, taking everything in. A few minutes later Estelle returned with the coffee. She glanced at Hawk carefully, smiling fully, then went back out into her office and shut the door.

Rita was sipping her coffee when the door opened again a few moments later and a tall man in an expensive dark suit walked in as if he owned the place. He would have made it all the way to Rita’s desk if Hawk had not intercepted him at the halfway point, freezing him in his tracks with an empty gaze.

“Hawk,” Rita said as she stood up. “It’s okay. This is Jared Briggs. The firm’s managing partner.”

“Man ought to knock,” Hawk said, his eyes never leaving the other man’s. “That way wouldn’t be no misunderstandings… and unfortunate consequences.”

Jared Briggs stared back at Hawk with a mixture of apprehension and annoyance, but quickly recovered himself and smiled, holding out a hand.

“Jared Briggs,” he said with a politician’s smile. “As Rita told you, I run the shop around here. Are you a client?”

Hawk ignored the hand and continued to stare into Briggs’ cool blue eyes.

Rita came around the desk and stood to his right.

“Jared, Hawk is a friend. And he’s concerned about what happened this morning. The mugging attempt.”

“Well we all are, Rita,” Briggs said to her. “Which is why I’m here instead of at that meeting I should be in up on thirty-seven. I just can’t believe how dangerous this city has become in the last few years. I’m just glad you weren’t seriously hurt. But I understand two men who tried to help you were?”

Rita nodded.

“Yes. One died, the other is hanging on.”

“A true tragedy for their families. I’ll have my assistant find out who they are and send flowers to the families.”

“That would be nice, Jared. I should do something, too.”

“Now, are you sure you’re all right?”

“Yes,” Rita said in as strong a voice as she could manage. “Perfectly.”

Briggs stared at her for a long time, then glanced at Hawk once more.

“And what business are you in, sir?” he asked smugly.

“Security and enforcement,” Hawk replied amiably, a death smile coming to his dark face.

Briggs didn’t seem to know how to respond so he turned back to Rita.

“We should talk later,” he said. “When both of us have the time. And alone. But right now I have to go.”

“I understand, Jared,” Rita said, then watched the managing partner take his leave.”

“Guy’s a prick,” Hawk said, retaking his seat on the sofa.

Rita nodded and perched on the front end of her desk, crossing her legs.

“Yeah, but it’s kind of a job requirement for his position. And he’s only had the job six months, ever since our last MP got the boot.”

“So you sticking with the mugging story?” Hawk said casually. “Random and all that?”

Rita looked at him for a long time, sucking on her upper lip.

“Hawk, please.”

He nodded and glanced over to the window behind her desk, staring at the beautiful gray late morning.

“Like I said, whenever you ready.”

After that neither of them had much else to say.

#  _Chapter 9_

Quirk called Hawk on his cell phone at two and informed him that the second Good Samaritan had died. Beyond that there was nothing new. Still no solid leads on the attackers. He asked if Rita had offered more and Hawk told him no. Quirk was not a happy cop when he hung up the phone and Hawk didn’t blame him, but he really didn’t care either.

Rita had meetings with clients all afternoon and when she was done at six she said that she needed a drink. Hawk suggested Locke-Ober and Rita had no objection.

They got a booth in the far corner and Rita ordered a double vodka martini. Hawk had Riesling, just to be different.

“Never figured you for a white wine kind of guy,” Rita said with a grin as she sipped her martini.

“Everybody can’t be put in a box, Counselor,” he told her with a crinkle in his eyes. “You should know that better than anybody.”

Rita drank half her martini and looked around.

“Half the people in here right now are lawyers,” she said. “Many from my firm. Lot of people make a lot of money come in here after work to get hammered. Especially the lawyers.”

“Everybody needs to unwind,” Hawk offered.

“How about you?” she said, leaning forward with her chin in her left hand, her right holding the stem of her glass. “You need to unwind?”

“Never been wound,” Hawk replied, sipping more of his wine, occasionally glancing around at the surroundings, keeping watch on the points of entry and exit.

“That’s not an answer,” Rita pressed.

“It is an answer,” he replied. “Just maybe not one you like.”

Rita finished her martini and signaled for another one. When it arrived, Hawk told her about the death of the second man who had tried to help her.

“Damn,” she swore, holding her glass in both hands on the table in front of her. “Damn, damn, fuck! I hate that like hell. They were just kids for chrissake!”

“Now they won’t be no older,” Hawk told her. “’Cause a couple of fools with blades tried to grab you. Quirk and the police all over that but even if they find the ones that did it, it won’t bring back the two that died. And before you go blaming yourself, don’t. Regardless what this about, you ain’t to blame for it. So don’t go taking that weight on yourself.”

“But they were trying to help me, Hawk,” Rita said with real pain in her eyes. “They were just trying to be good citizens, helping someone, a stranger, in need.”

“Should have done a better job, too,” Hawk replied.

Rita stared at him sharply for several moments, then picked up her glass and downed the contents in one long swallow. The waiter brought her another one in under a minute.

“You’re cold, Hawk. I’ve always known that. But that was too cold even for you. They didn’t deserve to die like that. Maybe they should have just stayed out of it and let them…”

Rita broke off and looked down into her fresh glass. Hawk had stopped drinking his wine and sat staring at her.

After a few minutes he reached over and took her hand in his, squeezing gently.

Rita’s shoulders began to shake and in a few seconds she was sobbing. Hawk stood and came around to her side of the table and put an arm around her. She continued to cry for maybe ten minutes, then sat back and wiped her eyes.

“I want to get out of here, Hawk,” she said in a small voice. “I want to go back to my place. We can talk there. I’ll tell you everything, but not here. I want to go home, change, maybe shower or something. Then we can order in and I’ll tell you everything. Promise.”

Hawk nodded and signaled for the check. He paid it and they left a few minutes later.

#  _Chapter 10_

Rita opted for a long, hot bath.

While she was in the tub, Hawk ordered from a Chinese place nearby and the food arrived about a half hour later. Hawk went into the kitchen and got some plates and put some of the food onto them and then carried them into the bathroom along with two bottles of imported beer from the fridge.

Rita was lying back in the tub with thick suds covering her from neck to toe. Her eyes had been closed but she opened them when Hawk entered.

“Food’s here already?” she said. “Must have dozed off. You didn’t have to serve me in here. I could have gotten out.”

“Yeah, but then you mighta put on clothes and that wouldn’t be no fun,” he said with a straight face, pulling a chair from the kitchen over next to the tub and sitting down. He handed Rita a plate and set a bottle of beer down on the floor next to the tub.

Rita grinned as she took the plate.

“Not necessarily. I often eat in the buff. Actually, I like to do a lot of things in the buff.”

“Good to know,” Hawk said, digging into his food with a pair of chopsticks.

Rita stared up at him for a few moments and then did the same.

After about five minutes Rita set her plate down on the floor next to the tub and picked up her bottle of beer. Hawk sat staring at her and sipped his beer, his plate perfectly balanced on his right knee.

“I don’t want anybody to know this right now, Hawk. Not anybody at the firm, and not Marty Quirk and the police. I know they have a job to do and you know how much I respect Marty Quirk, but right now I just don’t want him to know anything about this. It’s just too embarrassing. Too close.”

“You know I ain’t never been one to go runnin’ my mouth to the cops,” Hawk said. “Least of all to Captain Quirk.”

Rita nodded, staring at him over the mouth of her beer bottle.

“Yeah, I know. Which is why I’m going to trust you now. I know I can count on you. I know I can trust you. Hell, I always knew that. And I am going to need your help, I know that, too.”

Hawk sat and waited, his beer and food untouched.

Finally, Rita sighed and sat back in the tub, holding her beer in front of her as she began to speak.

“His name is Roger Adderwood,” she said. “I met him last year while…”

#  _Chapter 11_

“… and it was really good for a few months,” Rita was saying. “He was fun to be around. Handsome, rich, worldly. A great guy to hang out with.”

Her beer was gone and now she lay back in the tub and stared up at the ceiling, the suds still high up around her body. Hawk had set his plate and beer on the sink and was now sitting back in his chair with his legs crossed, his full attention on Rita as she told her story.

“But after a few months he began to get possessive, as a lot of guys tend to do after you’ve been going out with them for a while. Only with Roger there was something nasty about it. He’s always been used to getting his way, getting what he wants. He grew up with money and has never had anybody tell him he couldn’t have something. His father died when he was ten and his mother spoiled him. Sports cars when he was fifteen, expensive trips all over the world, anything, everything he ever wanted. So he doesn’t believe there is anything he can’t have. In business or his personal life. And nobody ever told him different.”

“Till you?” Hawk said.

Rita stared over at him, took a deep breath, then nodded.

“Yeah. After a while it got to be too much. He kept coming by here when I would get off work, even on nights when I told him I wanted to be alone. He’d send gifts, often times hand-delivered by people who worked for him. And not just here, at the office, while I was meeting with clients at their offices, and a few times to the courthouse.”

“So he was stalking you?” Hawk said.

“Yeah,” Rita said. “But as only a spoiled rich prick can. A lot of other women probably would have been flattered.”

“A lot of dumb ones,” Hawk offered.

Rita stared at him and shifted in the tub.

“Probably,” she admitted. “But I’m too old for that now. And I told him to leave me alone.”

“But he wouldn’t.”

“No. Kept coming by, sending gifts, sending people to talk to me. A few times I came home and he was already in here. Don’t know how he got in. I’ve got good locks. Had ‘em changed, too. Still he got in.”

“Not hard for somebody who know what they doing,” Hawk told her. “Or who got the dough to hire somebody who do. He hurt you?”

Rita shook her head.

“No. Just wanted to talk, tell me how much he missed me. A couple times, just because, I let him…”

Hawk took a deep breath and slowly released it. Although his outward appearance never altered, the inside of his chest was starting to constrict and something began to boil deep within his belly.

“So he the one sent those guys this morning?” Hawk said after a while.

“Yeah,” Rita answered in a quiet tone, not looking at him. “Can’t prove it, but I believe so.”

“You know why?”

Rita took a deep breath and sat up.

“Last week he asked me to marry him. Actually, he told me that we should get married, had this huge diamond ring with him.”

“And you said?”

“Told him to _fuck off_! He had come into my home uninvited again. I wasn’t in the mood that night either. So I told him to get screwed and leave me alone. That I didn’t ever want to see him again. He tried to put his hands on me and I kicked him right in the nuts. He cried like a little bitch and you should have seen him hobbling out of here.”

Hawk smiled a little.

“So you embarrassed him. He call or come by after that?”

“Sent flowers the next day, a note attached saying he forgave me. Prick!”

“Anything after that?”

“Just the two guys this morning. Like I said, can’t prove they were sent by Roger, but I can’t believe anybody else would do it. You said it yourself, they didn’t pull the knives until the other guys showed up. They didn’t want to kill me, just grab me. Probably take me to Roger.”

“Which means he’s probably pretty upset right now,” Hawk said.

“Be my guess,” Rita said, lying back in the tub and shivering as she hugged herself. “And that’s why I’m glad you’re here.”

“But you don’t want to get the cops involved,” he said. “Not even Quirk?”

“No, Hawk,” Rita implored. “I don’t want to involve them. And especially not Marty. I know him, I know what he’d do. Or try to. He’d go right over and get in Roger’s face. And Roger would not react well.”

“Quirk ain’t a pushover, you know.”

“I know. But Roger is a weasel. And a weasel with a lot of money. If Marty got in his way all Roger would have to do is make a few phone calls. The Adderwood family has lots of connections in city and state governments. Federal, too. He could get Marty busted back to patrol if he really wanted to. And I won’t have that happen because of me. It wouldn’t help me anyway.”

Hawk nodded slowly as he looked into Rita’s eyes.

“So you keepin’ your mouth shut to protect Marty? ‘Cause you know what this fool can do to hurt him through official channels?”

Rita nodded.

“Yeah. And anybody else I might turn to for help who was connected officially. Roger has a lot of money and a lot of people owe him, or at least his family. He’s very powerful, Hawk, and very mean.”

Suddenly Hawk smiled.

“But you not worried about me?” he said.

Rita smiled, too.

“Now why would I be worried about you, baby?”

They both laughed then, the tension somewhat broken.

Hawk stood up and picked up their dishes.

“You come on out of that tub now before you prune. I go take these in the kitchen.”

“You could hang around and help a girl out of the tub,” Rita teased, sitting forward.

“Then what I’m gonna do with these plates?”

“Fuck the plates,” she said, starting to rise.

Hawk smiled again, turned and headed for the door. Before he reached it, he briefly glanced in the mirror mounted over the sink. _Not bad_ , he thought, then kept going.

#  _Chapter 12_

After Rita went to sleep, Hawk called Vinnie Morris and asked if he was busy with anything at the moment. Vinnie said he had just gotten back from a job out of town and had been planning on resting up for a few days.

Hawk told him he had a job for him and Vinnie said he could rest later. Hawk told him to be at Rita’s place at seven in the morning and to come prepared to stay a while. Vinnie said that he would and hung up.

Hawk checked the condo one more time to make sure it was completely locked up tight, then went into the darkened living room and sat down on the sofa, taking the long barreled .44 magnum from the holster under his left arm and resting it on his lap. He was tired and figured he could probably get a few hours sleep if he wanted to, but decided against it.

This Roger Adderwood fella sounded kind of nutty and it probably wasn’t beyond the realm of possibility that he’d make another try for Rita tonight. Which meant Hawk needed to stay awake and alert. Ready just in case.

Tomorrow he’d have Vinnie backing him up and then he could probably get some rest. Of course, tomorrow he also had something else to do.

Roger Adderwood was somebody with a lot of money and power, and somebody very dangerous. He had already proven that he didn’t care about what anybody else wanted, or about the law. He was a law unto himself, at least in his mind. Which meant he was somebody capable of anything.

So Hawk had to learn about him, find out his secrets, his weaknesses. Find a way to get to him.

Because sooner or later Hawk knew it would come to that. A confrontation. And not just with the hired muscle. With the man himself.

This thought made Hawk smile.

He was looking forward to meeting the man in person. Then he’d teach him a thing or two about manners and respect.

And about pain.

First things first though. He had to get information, and unfortunately there was only one source that Hawk knew for certain could provide him with what he needed in a relatively short period of time.

This was not a meeting that Hawk was looking forward to. Never looked forward to.

But it had to be done.

So he’d do it.

As he had so many times these past fifteen years.

And hate it.

_Fuck_!

#  _Chapter 13_

Vinnie Morris arrived at precisely seven the next morning and Hawk let him into Rita’s living room. They went into the kitchen where the coffee was already on and Vinnie sat at the table while Hawk leaned against the sink facing him.

“Pretty nice place here,” Vinnie said after sipping his coffee. “Not yours I’ll bet.”

“You know that’s right,” Hawk said, taking a sip of his hot black coffee. “It belong to Rita Fiore.”

Vinnie eyed him for a few seconds, nodding slowly, then taking another sip of his coffee before setting the cup down on the table.

“She who this job about?”

“Yeah. Lady got a problem. Somebody tried to grab her yesterday. Killed two guys who was trying to help in the process.”

“She know the doers?”

“No,” Hawk told them. “But she know why they after her.”

Vinnie sat and waited, and after a while he realized that Hawk wasn’t going to say more.

“But you ain’t gonna tell me?”

“Not yet,” Hawk told him. “You in this because I need somebody I know can shoot and don’t mind the work. All you need to know is if somebody show up and try to take her again, kill ‘em.”

Vinnie picked up his cup and sipped again.

“My kind of work,” he said almost to himself.

Hawk finished his coffee and put the empty cup in the sink behind him. And at that moment Rita came in wearing a dark blue suit with a very short skirt. She had been smiling when she walked in, until she saw Vinnie Morris sitting at her kitchen table.

“Well don’t you look all ready for the office,” Hawk said with a smile. “Or maybe you wanna impress some judge today.”

Rita glanced at Vinnie, then over at Hawk, smiling again, but not as brightly.

“What if I told you I wore this for you?”

“Then I flattered,” Hawk said. “And I’m sure my friend here feel the same.”

Rita turned to Vinnie once more.

“I’ve seen you a few times with Hawk and Spenser,” she said to him, moving over to stand next to Hawk at the sink. “Vinnie, isn’t it? Used to be with Joe Broz?”

“Long time ago,” Vinnie said, sipping his coffee. “Joe’s retired now. Worked for Gino Fish for some years then. Now pretty much on my own. Freelance.”

“Like Hawk,” Rita said, glancing up at him.

“Nobody like Hawk,” Vinnie told her.

“And nobody like Vinnie either,” Hawk said. “He real good at what he do.”

“Well then that does make him like you,” Rita grinned. “And our other friend who likes to come to the aid of damsels in distress, the original White Knight.”

“Another broken mold,” Hawk told her. “Want coffee?”

Rita said she did and Hawk got her a cup. She added milk and sugar and leaned against the sink next to Hawk sipping it, staring over at Vinnie Morris.

“So you’ve recruited help?”

“Yeah,” Hawk nodded. “Thought it might be a good idea after we talked yesterday. And I didn’t say anything about what we talked about. Just told Vinnie that if somebody tries to grab you again that he should stop them if I’m not around.”

Rita turned and looked up at him.

“You planning on not being around?”

“Not much,” he told her. “But from time to time I might need to go do some other things. Like this morning.”

Rita continued to look into his dark eyes for several long moments, steam still rising from her half consumed coffee.

“Hawk, you aren’t going to go and do something like…”

He put a hand on her shoulder.

“I promised you I wouldn’t do anything you didn’t want me to. At least right now. But I do intend to learn a little more about the, ah, subject in question. Just a little research. I promise it won’t be more than that. For now.”

Rita looked at Hawk for another minute, her eyes not blinking, and then she turned back and finished her coffee.

Vinnie was staring at both of them with an expression of disinterest. His coffee was gone and he was thinking about another cup. Of course, he was also thinking about Rita’s thighs and how nice they’d probably feel on either side of his face…

#  _Chapter 14_

Rita was spending the morning at her office but had to go out for a meeting after lunch. Therefore, after getting her there safely, Hawk left Vinnie Morris cooling his heels in Rita’s outer office with her administrative staff. They all seemed nervous and uncertain about the little shooter’s presence. But Vinnie was neither. He simply sat on the sofa beside the front wall and took out an iPod and headphones, sinking back and appearing to go to sleep; but Hawk knew better.

Hawk then drove over to a nondescript building near Post Office Square, home of several small consulting firms that specialized in who-knew-what. However, only one of them was of consequence to Hawk at the moment.

It was located on the top floor at the far end of the hall. The sign on the door read **CONSULTANTS INTERNATIONAL ASSOCIATES**. This did not amuse Hawk. He hated being here, wished he never had to come here ever again, wished he never had to see the man who occupied this office.

But he had to. He knew this. So here he was.

Hawk knocked and then went in.

There was a football player type at the reception desk. Big and beefy, in shape, probably thought he could handle anything that came at him. And maybe if he lived long enough he’d come to find out how wrong he was.

The young man stood up when Hawk stepped inside the office and shut the door behind him. He eyed Hawk hard, trying to convey the image of a really hardcase badass. He failed, but didn’t know this.

“Need to see your boss,” Hawk said.

“And who might you be?” the young man inquired.

“The man who need to see your boss.”

“Your name, bub. Don’t get smart with me. You don’t know who you messing with.”

Hawk took off his dark shades and smiled at the young man, and this had the effect of chilling the other man’s blood. But he was young and dumb, so he had to prove how tough he was.

He stepped around the front side of his desk and came up to Hawk, his thick hands on his thick waist.

“That supposed to scare me, boy?”

The words had barely left his mouth when Hawk punched him in the gut with a twisting right uppercut, doubling him over, then raising his knee into the man’s crotch. He fell like a sack of potatoes just a moment before the door behind the desk opened and a thin, graying man with a full head of hair and recently capped teeth stood in the doorway smiling.

“Why if it isn’t the Black Prince,” Ives said. “What a pleasant surprise.”

He glanced down at the man on the floor.

“Todd, you really are going to have to learn that not everybody is afraid of an ex-Jock from Princeton. Lucky for you our friend chose to take it easy. Otherwise I’d have to requisition a new assistant. And you know how much I hate paperwork.”

Hawk stepped over Todd and went into Ives’ office. The CIA man told his assistant to get up and put some ice on his balls, then went into his office and shut the door.

#  _Chapter 15_

The office was small, no pictures, no awards, nothing personal. Just like the man who occupied it.

Ives was in shirt sleeves, his tie pulled loose and the top button of his starched green shirt undone. He sat back in the black leather chair behind his desk and put his right foot up on an open drawer, his hands behind his head.

“So the mountain has come to Mohammed today,” he said. “Very unusual, considering how much I know you detest me. You must really need something special. Or unusual. Tell me, does it concern our mutual acquaintance, Young Lochinvar? Although I believe at the moment he and his fair maiden are out of the country. Japan, if I make no mistake.”

Hawk sighed in his chair across from the desk.

“Ives, there ain’t no need for you to try to impress me. I know you keep tabs on everything that go on in Boston, even Spenser. Ain’t no secret he in Japan. And no, this ain’t got nothin’ to do with him or Susan.”

“Very well then, Black Prince. I know this isn’t a social call either because I know you really don’t like me. Made that abundantly clear the last time we spoke after your last trip to Central Asia. Which, as I’m sure you will recall, was quite a success for your country. If you cared about such things, which you don’t. So tell me why you’re here. I believe our arrangement is that when I have something that requires your talents I get in touch with you. Of course, if you are looking for some work, I know I can find something. With the way of the world today, there is more than my usual contractors can handle.”

“I ain’t here for that, Ives,” Hawk cut him off with a hard glance. “That last bit over there was it. You guys got the fella you wanted. _The Big Cheese._ He dead and I’m done. That the deal. Period. I’m here now because I need something from you and I figure since I was, as you say, _instrumental in bringing about a resolute end to a very dark chapter in American history_ , you might be in the mood to help.”

“Really?” Ives smiled, shifting around in his chair. “Well this really is a switch. You coming to me for help. That hasn’t happened in more than a decade. Not since our little bargain.”

Hawk sighed again.

This was going to be harder than he had thought. Hawk was a man who believed in dealing with problems head on, usually with bullets. He would dearly love to have relied on his base instincts when it came to the man sitting across from him right now, but knew he couldn’t. At least not now, maybe not ever. So as much as he wanted to shoot Ives right in the middle of his pasty forehead, he knew that he had to tolerate him. But it would be very hard.

“Well things change, Ives. And now they have. Need your help.”

“And why should I help you, Black Prince? As I recall, when we struck our bargain it was made rather clear that favors would be one-way. You said then that you wanted nothing from me other than my word that Young Lochinvar and his fair maiden would be left alone. Protected as it were. I have kept my end of the deal, as you have on the occasions when your talents were needed. In particular in Pakistan last year. So why should we upset the apple cart now?”

“Because I need something and you the only one I know can get it without raising too much of a stink. You got your fingers into everything and I know you can do this with very little trouble.”

Ives continued to stare at Hawk, his expression of false geniality still firmly in place.

After a few minutes he sighed and put his foot back on the floor, dropping his hands to his stomach.

“What do you want, Black Prince. No promises. If I can do it, which I probably can, and I want to, then I may help you out. But you do understand what this will mean?”

“Of course, Ives,” Hawk replied coldly. “With you it ain’t hard to understand.”

Ives smiled again, then sat forward.

“So tell me what you need.”

Hawk did.

Ives thought about it for a few minutes, glancing out the window to his right. Then he sighed again.

“I’m aware of Mr. Adderwood. Quite a wealthy man. Lot of powerful friends. I can see why you would come to me with this. Anyone snooping around Adderwood through normal channels would undoubtedly raise several alarms. But you figure I can be more circumspect, more discreet.”

“I figure you more sneaky like a snake,” Hawk said.

Ives grinned.

“You do know how to butter a fellow up, Black Prince. Perhaps you could tell me why you want this information? How is it that Mr. Roger Adderwood has come to your attention, and what do you intend to do once you have the information?”

“That not your concern, Ives.”

“Oh, Black Prince, but you are wrong. As I said, Adderwood has many powerful friends. If something were to happen to him, something violent for instance, some of those friends might start to inquire. That could be very uncomfortable for me if it were revealed that I might have unwittingly provided information to his killer beforehand.”

Hawk smiled and shook his head.

“You and I both know that won’t happen, Ives. You ain’t gonna leave nothing that can trace back to you. And you know me. All those jobs I done for you these last fifteen years, ever since the Gray Man[‡‡] first went after Spenser, nothing ever blew back your way. Not one thing, even that job with the congressman in Milford last October. And that one really could have gone sideways.”

Ives sat quietly for several minutes, his hands steepled under his chin.

Finally he nodded, turning toward the desktop computer to his left.

“Well let’s see if I can make a few inquiries. This may take a while though. If I am to do it right.”

“Sure,” Hawk said, standing. “You got a day. I’ll be back in the morning.”

Ives glanced up at Hawk and grinned.

“Careful, Black Prince. Remember, you’re not the only contractor under my wing.”

Hawk put his shades back on and opened the door to the outer office.

“Oh, you mean you got more like Todd out there?” he said, grinning.

Then he went out and closed the door behind him.

#  _Chapter 16_

Rita had lunch with a couple of associates at Grill 23 and Bar on Berkley Street then Hawk drove her to her meeting in Roxbury not too far from Police Headquarters.

This took three hours, and afterwards she had to go back to the office for a couple of hours. She was done by seven and told Hawk she wanted to go out for a drink before heading home. So they headed over to the Four Seasons and got a booth in back.

“I haven’t seen Vinnie since you got back,” Rita said after taking in half of the scotch and soda she had ordered. “Did he leave?”

Hawk shook his head and sipped from the bottle of beer he had ordered.

“He around. Been on our tail all afternoon. He outside right now keeping an eye on things.”

“Really?” Rita said. “I hadn’t noticed him.”

“You ain’t supposed to,” Hawk told her. “And he wouldn’t be good at his work if you could. Vinnie be real good at hidin’ in plain sight. Nobody spots him ‘less he wants them too.”

Rita took a smaller sip of her drink this time.

“Are you that good, too?”

“’Course,” he smiled at her. “Who you think taught Vinnie to be so good?”

Rita laughed.

“Modest aren’t we.”

“I try,” Hawk said, taking another swallow of his beer.

Rita sat quietly for a few minutes, staring down into her glass. Finally, she glanced up at Hawk, the question plain in her eyes.

“Where’d you go today?” she said.

“I told you,” he said. “A little information gathering, nothing more. Just wanted to see if I could learn something about this Adderwood fella that maybe you don’t know. Background stuff. Find out what make him tick. What his weaknesses are.”

“And you didn’t go to the police?” Rita said, her eyes suspicious.

“Rita, you know better than that. Besides, like you said, he’d bury Marty Quirk in a heartbeat and it wouldn’t be no matter anyway.”

“But you know somebody he can’t bury?”

“Something like that. And maybe it’s just somebody I don’t care if they do get buried. Either way, I’ll know what I need to soon. Then we see.”

Rita nodded and glanced back down at her drink. Then she picked up the glass and downed the whole thing.

She signaled their waitress for another and a few minutes later it arrived. Hawk declined the offer of a second beer.

“So you haven’t heard from him since yesterday?” Hawk said.

“No,” Rita said in a low tone. “And I’ve been expecting to. Maybe with the two guys getting killed he got nervous. Maybe decided to back off, knowing the cops are involved.”

“Maybe,” Hawk said. “But from what you told me about him, I’m not sure he’ll scare for long. Like you said, he only care about what he want. And what he appears to want is you, lover girl. I can’t see him backing off just because of a couple dead bodies.”

Rita stared at Hawk and took in several deep breaths.

“And you’re probably right. God can I pick ‘em. Fuck!”

Hawk reached out and touched her hand on the table.

“Go easy on yourself, Lady _DA **[§§]**_ , the former. This ain’t your fault. It’s his. Remember that.”

She stared at him some more, trying to smile. Then nodded and took a sip of her fresh drink.

They decided to order dinner and Rita asked if they should send something out to Vinnie. Hawk told her no, knowing that the little shooter was more than capable of taking care of himself.

Rita had grilled sea-bass and Hawk had a sixteen ounce ribeye, medium rare. For the rest of the evening they stayed off the topic of Roger Adderwood and anything else unpleasant.

When they were ready to leave, Hawk called Vinnie on his cell phone and told him they were coming out. Vinnie told him the street was clear and that it was safe for them to come out.

It was snowing heavily by this time and the drive over to Revere Street took longer than normal, but Rita didn’t mind. She felt even safer in Hawk’s big SUV with the big man himself, watching the snow fall and the traffic around them crawl forward and past.

She shivered and pulled her overcoat closer around her shoulders.

Hawk glanced at her and smiled as he braked at a light.

“You know you might not be so cold if you had on a longer skirt.”

Rita grinned at him and flashed her legs.

“Yeah, big fella,” she teased, “but then you wouldn’t get to admire all that work I do on the Stairmaster.”

They both laughed, and when the light changed, Hawk drove through the intersection a few blocks from Rita’s place.

#  _Chapter 17_

Marty Quirk called Thursday morning while Rita was in federal court. Hawk was out in the corridor because the courtroom was sealed and he took the call on his cell.

When Rita came out just before lunch he told her what Quirk had said. She listened with resolve and nodded when he finished.

“Well so much for a good lunch before the afternoon session,” she said somberly. “Okay, let’s go.”

They arrived at the city morgue at ten minutes after noon and found Quirk and Frank Belson waiting for them in the basement storage area.

“Found them in a van that was reported stolen a month ago,” Belson said as they walked into a small exam room that had two metal tables in it, both occupied by bodies covered with plastic sheets. “Both been shot in the back of he head, small caliber, didn’t make an exit so the faces are in tact.”

Rita had an uncomfortable look on her face and reached for Hawk’s hand. He squeezed hers.

“Got names from their prints. Both guys got long records. Assault, kidnapping, even a couple of murders. You were lucky, Ms. Fiore. Unlike the two kids tried to help you.”

“All right, Frank,” Quirk said. “Let’s just let her see the faces and see if she can recognize them.”

Belson nodded and put his notebook away, walking over to one of the tables and pulling the sheet back. Rita took a deep breath and then looked at the uncovered face. She stared for a long time and then shook her head.

“Can’t be sure. Like I told you, it was dark, they had caps pulled down on their ears. Didn’t get a really good look. Could be, but I just can’t say.”

Quirk nodded and Belson covered the body back up, moving to the other table.

Again Rita could not be sure.

“All right,” Quirk said. “Let’s get out of here.”

They went back into the hallway and Rita leaned against the wall, hugging herself tightly. Hawk stood next to her with a hand on her shoulder.

“So who were they?” he said.

Belson looked at Quirk.

Quirk nodded, staring at Rita.

“Max Galen and Steve Pritchard. Both real hardcases, like I said. Long sheets. Done some time, too. So far we didn’t find a connection to any of your old cases when you was in the DA’s office, but Lee Farrell’s still on it. As for something more recent…”

“Could it be something more recent, Rita?” Quirk probed.

She shivered again and looked up at the Homicide Commander.

“Marty, I just don’t know. We don’t even know if they’re the guys.”

“Actually we do,” Belson said, once again holding his notebook open. “Got a bit of DNA from under the fingernails of one of the Good Samaritans who got whacked. Blood type matches one of the stiffs down the hall. Max Galen. Take a while for official DNA results to come back, but we’re pretty confident it was definitely them.”

Rita eyed the Homicide Sergeant harshly, then looked at Quirk.

“Well if you had the DNA then why did you make me go through that, Marty? That was cruel!”

“Not nearly as cruel as what got done to those two boys,” Quirk shot back with barely controlled fury. “And I do mean _boys_. They were younger than my two. And won’t get any older. They got butchered by those creeps in there. Butchered while trying to help you! And I know you’re holding out on me. You know more than you’re saying. Now we got two more bodies. How many more we gonna get before you decide to start being straight with me, Counselor?”

“Captain,” Hawk said in a quiet but forceful tone.

Quirk glanced at him, his face still a mask of disgust and frustration.

“What?”

“Easy now,” Hawk told him. “Remember, she a victim, too.”

Quirk stared hard for several moments, finally taking in some air and slowly releasing it.

“All right. All right. So you got anything to add at this time, Ms. Fiore?”

Rita glanced over at Hawk, then at Marty Quirk, shaking her head.

Quirk nodded tiredly and then told them they could go.

So they did.

#  _Chapter 18_

It had taken Ives longer than a day to get what Hawk requested, although Hawk suspected the spook was just making a point that he didn’t like being pushed. That he was the man in charge of their relationship.

Fine for now, Hawk thought. But maybe he ought to think about correcting Ives’ interpretation at some point in the future. Just not now.

After leaving the morgue, Rita didn’t feel like doing anything else so she called her office and told one of her assistants she wouldn’t be back today, then asked Hawk to take her home.

She’d gone straight into her bedroom and closed the door. Hawk was in the living room a few minutes later when Vinnie Morris knocked on the front door.

“Street’s clear out there now. Nobody been following you all day. Who you go to see in the morgue?”

“Couple of dead guys,” Hawk told him. “Probably the guys who tried to grab her the other day.”

Vinnie eyed Hawk sideways.

“You have anything to do with them getting stiffed?”

Hawk glanced down at the diminutive gunslinger, then went over and sat down on a plush recliner to the left of a plush sofa.

“Nah. But I woulda if I had found them first. Be my guess that somebody cleaning up after their mess. Probably not happy about the way things went the other day, and didn’t want it leading back to them.”

“You know who?” Vinnie asked leaning against the left end of the cold fireplace.

Hawk thought a minute, then nodded to the duffel on the sofa.

“File in there I got from somebody with connections. Why don’t you have a look and tell me what you think.”

Vinnie frowned.

“Hawk, you know all that reading shit ain’t my thing. I just do gun work. Thinking usually go to somebody else.”

“Know what you mean,” Hawk said. “And that somebody else be out of town for the next coupla months.”

They were silent for several minutes, then Hawk stood and got the file out of the duffel, bringing it back to the chair and sitting down.

“Guy’s name is Roger Adderwood,” Hawk said with the file on his lap. “And you didn’t hear that name, okay? Rita don’t want nobody knowing just yet.”

“What that?” Vinnie said, frowning once more. “If this the guy trying to hurt her, why don’t she tell it to the cops and let them deal with him? Fuck, she used to be a DA.”

“Yeah,” Hawk said. “But this guy too powerful, got lots of connections. He be able to squash something official. Even from somebody like Quirk.”

“So she protecting the cops? That seem strange as hell to me.”

“Me, too,” Hawk admitted. “But not when you read what’s in this file. Guy we dealin’ with got a lot of power, and a lot of friends. Official channels, so using the cops ain’t gonna work with him.”

“So then why don’t we just go and clip the guy?” Vinnie said.

“Thought of that, too,” Hawk said.

“But she don’t want it?” Vinnie said.

“Nope. She don’t want that.”

“But she want to be protected from him?”

“Yep.”

Vinnie sighed in frustration.

“See, this is why I like hookers. No drama. Just pay ‘em, they do you, then they leave. Simple. All this shit with feelings is just a waste of time and a headache.”

“You like hookers, Vinnie, because you know they won’t laugh at your little pecker if you pay ‘em enough.”

Vinnie eyed Hawk very hard, then shook his head, suppressing a grin.

“You just jealous,” he said after a time.

Hawk shook his head slightly and then opened the file and began to read it again.

#  _Chapter 19_

Vinnie left and said he’d be back by seven in the morning. Hawk was halfway through the file again when he heard Rita come out of the back bedroom. He quickly returned the Adderwood file to his duffel and was standing at the edge of the sofa when Rita came down the hall wearing a teal terrycloth robe and walking on bare feet.

Her hair was down and still damp. She smiled at Hawk.

“So what would you like for dinner, big fella?”

“You gonna cook?”

“Bite your tongue, sir. I’ve got menus from every place that delivers in the neighborhood. From Thai food to deli, and everything in between. Whatever you desire.”

She stopped and put a hand on her slender hip.

“Emphasis on _whatever_.”

Hawk grinned.

“Whatever you in the mood for,” he told her.

“Well, well, sailor. Then this might be my lucky night after all. How about something tall, dark, and delicious?”

“Maybe for dessert,” Hawk told her.

Rita grinned again and then went into the kitchen to get her supply of menus.

After a few minutes they opted for Thai and Rita called in the order. When the food arrived, Hawk opened the door and paid, then took the food into the kitchen where Rita had plates already laid out.

They sat and ate, avoiding all conversation that pertained to her present circumstances. When dinner was over they went into the living room with hot cups of coffee and Hawk made up the fireplace.

They sat on the sofa sipping their coffee and staring into the fire, side-by-side, silent.

Eventually Rita leaned forward and set her cup and saucer down on the coffee table in front of them and leaned back, closing her eyes and sighing heavily.

“I’m getting some heat at work,” she said in a tired voice. “Reporters keep calling wanting to do an interview about what happened. Jared Briggs doesn’t like the publicity, and neither do the other senior partners. They keep asking me if something else is going on because they see you and Vinnie around all the time.”

“What you tell them?”

“To mind their own business. I’m a partner, too. And I bring in a lot of revenue. This didn’t happen at work and it’s none of their concern.”

“But?”

“But they say the firm’s image is important and having a couple of obvious hardcases around all the time is tarnishing that image. They say that if I have a problem and feel I need protection then they can arrange for professional and discreet security personnel who will better blend in with the firm’s atmosphere.”

“Maybe they could,” Hawk offered.

“Yeah,” Rita said. “But nobody I could trust like I can trust you. And Vinnie, too. I feel safe with you around. And you know all there is to know. I couldn’t tell anybody else, and if I did they’d probably try to do something stupid, like confront Roger. And we both know how that would end.”

“So this Briggs fella pushing you hard?” Hawk said casually.

Rita turned and looked at him.

“Hawk, it’s not something you need to get involved with, please. Jared’s easy for me to handle. He likes my skirts, too. And a few other things.”

Hawk stared into her dark eyes for a few moments, and then grinned.

“I’m sure he do. But maybe if I had a word with him…”

Rita put a hand on his arm and leaned close.

“Thank you. But no.”

Hawk eventually nodded and Rita kissed him on the cheek. She pulled back and looked into his eyes once more. Then she leaned in again and kissed him on the mouth.

The kiss lasted for several minutes, and when she finally pulled back, this time Rita was breathless.

Hawk sat perfectly still, his face showing nothing.

Rita took a deep breath, then climbed into his lap, pushing her robe above her thighs, straddling him, and kissing him once more.

Later, Hawk was back in the living room wearing nothing but his jeans. The backs of his shoulders were still stinging from where Rita had dug her nails in. And he had a couple of hickeys on his neck and chest.

He sat down on the sofa, carefully, and once again took out the file on Roger Adderwood.

By one in the morning he had read it twice and felt he had learned all he was going to. Might as well try to get some sleep.

He thought about going back into Rita’s bedroom and spending the night there, but thought better of it.

She needed rest, too. If he went back in there and she woke up…

Yeah, best to stay on the sofa. That way he could be ready just in case.

And he’d have time to let all the swelling go down.

#  _Chapter 20_

Friday morning Rita wanted to go for a run. Hawk looked at her dressed in formfitting spandex and a heavy jacket and had to smile.

“Thought after last night you might want to sleep in,” he said.

Rita grinned and walked over to him, stopping just a few inches away.

“Actually that whet my appetite for more strenuous exercise,” she told him. “So what do you say?”

He dressed in his own running clothes and then they went for a run. Just two miles, then back to Rita’s by six-thirty.

This morning she didn’t even have to tease, Hawk came into the bathroom with her. And the shower was big enough for two.

Vinnie Morris had waited downstairs in his car until Hawk called, telling him they were leaving at a little after eight.

They arrived at Rita’s office at eight-forty, and when they walked in, Jared Briggs was waiting behind her desk.

The smile evaporated from Rita’s face as she walked over and put her things down.

“Something wrong with the chair in your office upstairs, Jared?”

“We need to talk, Rita,” Briggs said, glancing past her at Hawk, who was standing with his back to the now closed door, arms folded across his muscular chest. “Alone. Without your pet gorilla there.”

Hawk grinned.

Rita reddened.

“How dare you speak to my friend like that!” she bellowed. “God, I knew you were a prick, but I never thought you were a racist, Jared!”

Briggs stood up and quickly attempted to placate her.

“Not what I meant, Rita. You know that. I wasn’t being racial. Just an expression. You know, a tough guy type of gorilla. Not a…”

“Nigger?” Hawk offered helpfully.

Briggs’ eyes widened and he stammered.

“No--- no, not… I…”

“Jared, get out of my office _now_!” Rita ordered. “When I want to speak to you I’ll let you know. Now get out!”

Briggs was flushed and uncertain. He glanced at Hawk once more and he was no longer smiling, his gaze cold and deadly.

The Managing Partner of Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin took his leave in a hurry and Rita dropped down into her now empty chair.

Hawk moved over to the sofa and sat, stretching his long legs out in front of him.

“You okay?” he said.

Rita eyed him for a while before sighing and sitting back in her chair.

“I am now, darling,” she said with a grin.

Hawk grinned, too.

“You played him well,” he told her.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, then reached for her briefcase.

#  _Chapter 21_

Saturday Rita was in a playful mood.

Hawk was also in a playful mood.

So they spent the day playing.

All day long.

Sunday Rita had to go out to Somerville to interview a witness in one of her upcoming cases. They stopped for lunch first at Village Grill and Seafood in Cambridge and then proceeded on to Somerville just a few miles to the northeast.

The snow had tapered off for the weekend and today the sun was shining brightly in the sky, but it was still only twenty-seven degrees.

Rita spent two hours talking to her witness while Hawk waited outside and watched the quiet street. When she came out she was smiling.

“Well now that I’m done with work for the day, what do you suppose we ought to do with the rest of our time?”

Hawk put the Escalade in gear and pulled from the curb.

“Could go ice skating,” he suggested.

Rita laughed and punched him in the arm.

“Ice skating? Yeah, right! I’ll make it easy for you then. Let’s go back to my place and _fuck_.”

Hawk thought for a minute as he drove.

“Don’t know, girl. Skating on the ice could be kinda fun this time of year.”

Rita released her seatbelt and leaned very close to him, her right hand on his right thigh.

“Not nearly as much fun as what I have in mind back at my place, lover.”

Hawk nodded, still smiling, feeling a swelling in his jeans, which Rita no doubt could feel as well.

He didn’t say anything else, and after a few minutes, Rita moved back over and put her seatbelt back on.

Her point had been made, and she was rather pleased with herself.

By the time they got back to Revere Street the sun was gone and the sky looked threatening.

Hawk got out first and checked the street, then opened the door for Rita.

She was looking back at him and grinning when Hawk spotted the first one.

Then the second one.

“Get back in the car,” he told Rita in a quiet but urgent tone. “Lock the door.”

She glanced around, suddenly very frightened.

Hawk took her by the arm and shoved her into the Escalade, locking the door and slamming it. Then he moved away with his arms down by his side as four men closed on him from two directions.

Hawk stood where he could keep all of them in sight, as well as the rest of the street.

Three stayed back while the fourth continued to approach.

He was tall, maybe even with Hawk, and well-built. White, maybe forty, black mustache and goatee, neatly trimmed.

He stopped a few feet from Hawk and stood with his hands down by his sides.

For a few minutes nobody said anything.

Rita sat in the front seat of Hawk’s SUV and watched with a growing sense of unease and fear.

Finally, the man spoke to Hawk.

“Heard of you,” he said. “They call you Hawk.”

“They do,” Hawk said.

“Hear you a real badass in these parts. Hear most everybody respect and fear you. Good guys and bad alike.”

Hawk didn’t respond, just continued to stare with an uninterested expression on his face, his body loose and ready.

“My name is Carmine,” the man continued. “I’m in the security consulting business. I was hired by a client to come and get the lady in your car and take her to see him. He says he just wants to talk, nothing more. Says no harm will come to her. Also says that he’s willing to pay you well if you don’t interfere. You can name your price.”

“He can’t meet my price,” Hawk replied evenly.

“Come on, pal,” Carmine said. “Don’t be like that. Everybody got a price. And you don’t know how deep my client’s pockets are. He got plenty of bread. And if you take a little, then this don’t have to go down so hard. Nobody get hurt.”

“Don’t mind people gettin’ hurt,” Hawk told him, suddenly smiling. “Just as long as it the right people.”

Carmine sighed and shook his head.

“They said you was hard, Hawk. Cold and hard. And damned unreasonable.”

Hawk continued to smile but said nothing.

Finally Carmine nodded to himself and turned to glance back over his shoulder at his men.

A mistake because that’s when Hawk hit him.

Before the others could react, Hawk grabbed Carmine by the throat and used his body as a shield while the stainless steel .44 magnum at them.

Each man froze with his hand under his jacket.

“Tell ‘em to clear their hands, and they better be empty,” Hawk whispered in Carmine’s ear. “Otherwise you the first to get it.”

Carmine did as he was told and so did his men.

“Now tell ‘em to scatter. If I see them here in five seconds I blow your head off first. Then theirs.”

Again Carmine and company complied.

When the others were out of sight, Hawk released Carmine and turned him so that they could look into each other’s eyes. The other man’s eyes were tearing up and his throat was red.

“Now you make this clear to your boss, Carmine. The lady don’t want to see him no more. She don’t want to talk to him, hear from him, nothing. She ain’t gonna tell the cops about him if he leave her alone. She kept quiet so far about what happened last week. But if he keep pushing this then she might not be so willin’ to protect him.”

Hawk took a step closer to him and dropped his voice even lower.

“And I might not be so willin’ to let him go on livin’!”

Carmine backed away at first, then turned and moved away very quickly.

Hawk waited until he was out of sight and there was no sign of the others. Then he opened the door of his Escalade and let Rita out. It started to snow then and they quickly moved inside.

“They were from Roger, weren’t they?” she said once they were in her living room with their coats off. “They wanted to take me to him, didn’t they?”

Hawk nodded.

“Yeah. He still be determined to see you, girl.”

Rita shook her head in frustration, hugging herself tightly.

“God, why can’t he get the message and leave me alone!”

“Well I conveyed your wishes to his flunky out there. Maybe he’ll listen this time. Maybe not. And if you want, I can always go over to his place and deliver it in person.”

Rita stared at him, still holding herself.

She shook her head slowly.

“No, Hawk, I don’t want that. And I’m not sure it would do all that much good anyway.”

“Probably not if all I did was talk,” he said. “But you know how persuasive I can be in the non-verbal sense.”

Rita grinned, then giggled.

“Yeah, I know,” she said. “But I don’t think fucking Roger would work either. But it might work on me right now.”

Hawk grinned, then let the conversation drop. Suddenly he didn’t feel like thinking about Roger Adderwood or Carmine or anybody else right now.

No one besides the insatiable Ms. Rita Fiore, Attorney and Counselor-at-Law.

#  _Chapter 22_

Hawk had Vinnie Morris sit in Rita’s office Monday morning while he went over to the Harbor Health Club and spent a couple hours working on the bags and skipping rope. Once he was showered and dressed in street clothes he went down to the Buddy Fox to see Tony Marcus.

Junior, his mammoth muscle, and Ty-Bop, his skinny shooter, were in the front part of the bar when Hawk came in. Both knew him well and Junior smiled and nodded. Ty-Bop just bobbed and swayed to whatever music he was listening to through his ever-present earphones, saying nothing, but seeing everything.

Junior said Tony was in back and made a quick call from the bar. Tony would see Hawk and said he should come on back.

Tony Marcus was the boss of all black crime in the greater Boston area. The godfather as it were. Nothing went on in his territory that he didn’t know about, and have a piece of.

Hawk had worked for him a few times in the early days, but that had been a long time ago. Their paths still crossed occasionally, usually business-related, and their attitudes toward one another were cordial. For the most part.

There was that incident some time ago where Spenser, with the aid of Hawk, had sent Tony away for a few years… But all was forgiven now. Kind of.

“Hawk, you looking slick as ever,” Tony said from behind his big oak desk in back of the office. “You don’t seem to age at all. Must be that shiny shaved head of yours.”

“You looking good, too, Tony,” Hawk said, coming over and sitting down in one of the comfortable leather chairs in front of the desk. “Being a wealthy man must agree with you.”

Tony grinned and wiped his mouth on a linen napkin. He was in shirt sleeves, a designer shirt with French cuffs. Red suspenders and a striped tie. The picture of fashion.

“Nothing wrong with money,” the mobster said.

“Yeah,” Hawk said. “Even if you make it by peddling shit to junkies.”

“Everybody got needs, Hawk,” Tony said. “I’m just in the business of supplying those in need. You know how it go.”

“Yeah, Tony,” Hawk replied coldly, the brief image of a young girl he once knew flashing through his mind. “I know.”

“So what bring you ‘round here this morning? I know it ain’t no social call. Never is with you. Or your honkie sidekick, Spenser. Where he now, out watching the car because he afraid somebody gonna steal it?”

“He in Japan,” Hawk said.

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“Really? How Boston ever gonna get by without its _Great Honkie Hope_?”

Hawk said nothing.

Tony sighed.

“So tell me what you want, Hawk.”

“Leonard still around?” Hawk asked.

“Sho’,” Tony replied.

“He workin’ on anything at the moment?”

“Leonard always working on something, Hawk. He work for me. You know how that go. I’m a businessman and I always got business.”

Hawk nodded.

“I need to borrow him for a while.”

Tony frowned.

“Did I hear you right?” he said. “You want to _borrow_ him. What you think he is, a cup of sugar or something? For that matter, what you think I am, your fucking next door neighbor?”

“No, Tony, we both know what you are. And we both know a lot of stuff you done. But none of that matter now. I need to borrow Leonard for something I’m working on now. Need a bit of backup. He good with a gun. Know how to keep his mouth shut. And he a snappy dresser just like his pappy.”

Tony grinned again, shaking his head.

“Know how to lay it on thick, Hawk, I give you that. But I can’t believe you in here asking for my help like this. Asking me to loan you Leonard for backup. Don’t seem like the Hawk I know. Maybe the honkie bein’ outta town and all… What you need Leonard for? What’s this job?”

“Looking out for somebody,” Hawk told him. “All I can say.”

“Who the somebody?” Tony said.

Hawk shook his head.

“So I suppose to take it on faith and let you have one of my best men?”

“Yep,” Hawk said.

Tony stared at him some more and then started laughing.

“Hawk, anybody else come in here and ask me something this crazy and I have Ty-Bop dust ‘em right on the spot. But for you… When you need him?”

“Soon as he available.”

“He out right now,” Tony said. “I call him, maybe he get back in a coupla hours. That do for you?”

“Have to,” Hawk said.

“Okay,” Tony said. “Where I tell him to go?”

“Tell him to call my cell. I tell him from there.”

Tony looked at Hawk some more.

Hawk sat and stared back at Tony.

Then the mobster nodded again.

“Okay.”

Hawk stood up and left without another word and Tony Marcus reached for his cell phone.

#  _Chapter 23_

Two weeks went by and nothing happened. No more visits from Carmine and his gang, no more dead bodies showing up in the morgue connected to Rita, and no contact with Roger Adderwood at all.

Hawk continued to stay at Rita’s place, and that was becoming a habit that neither of them seemed to mind.

Every day Vinnie Morris would shadow them during the morning and afternoon hours, and then Leonard would take over and work through the night, keeping watch outside the condo on Revere Street.

Then it was March.

Quirk still wasn’t happy with the lack of progress on the case, and occasionally he called Rita in for more talk. However, the former prosecutor and ace private legal eagle was well-skilled at talking and saying nothing. This usually left the captain of Homicide unhappy, but with little recourse other than to let her leave, saying that if she thought of anything she should call.

Then Roger Adderwood called.

Or more specifically, he had his assistant call. Saying that Mr. Adderwood would like to invite Rita to a function he was throwing at his place in the Back Bay.

Rita refused the invitation, and non-too politely.

A short time later another invitation came.

Again it was rebuffed.

Three days after that, on a cold and snowy Friday evening, three guys took a run at Rita and Hawk as they came out of the Ritz Carlton on Avery Street.

It was clear from the beginning that they wanted to kill Hawk and grab Rita, otherwise they would simply have started shooting right away. But because they didn’t want to hurt Rita they had had to expose themselves first, and that was a very bad mistake.

A fatal one in fact.

Vinnie Morris had gone to the john a few minutes earlier and was just getting back in his car when Hawk called to say they were coming out. So he hadn’t witnessed the arrival of the hit and snatch team. But when they moved into attack position the little shooter acted quickly, exiting his car parked across the street on a hydrant, a stainless steel Ruger pistol in his right hand.

Hawk sensed them before he saw them, quickly taking Rita by the left arm and pulling her around behind him as the first one showed himself.

Hawk always wore his coat unbuttoned when working and it was a small matter to draw the .44 and aim in one fluid motion. However before he could fire, Vinnie’s Ruger boomed first.

But the man that Hawk had spotted did not go down; still he was startled by the shot. Hawk wasn’t though, naturally assuming that Vinnie was already in action.

The man recovered quickly, but not quickly enough. He had just drawn a pistol from under his heavy coat when Hawk shot him through the chest twice, knocking him back into the thick snow on the pavement outside the Ritz.

Rita screamed behind him and he reached back, took her left forearm in his left hand, squeezing gently.

Then he saw a second shooter. But apparently Vinnie had seen him too and shot him dead.

“Don’t see no more of them, Hawk!” Vinnie yelled.

Hawk didn’t reply, simply turned and pushed Rita down the street toward where his SUV was parked. They were just a few feet away when two more gunslingers appeared. One with a sawed-off two barrel and the other with a small revolver.

Hawk shoved Rita down into the snow and dropped down as well, his knees landing hard on either side of her prone body.

The man with the shotgun had it leveled at Hawk, a menacing expression on his pale face.

“You might be good, boy,” said the man with the revolver. “But Tommy here’ll cut you in two with that thing. And the chick too. I know you don’t want that. So why don’t you cooperate? We just want to take the lady and let somebody talk to her. That’s all. No harm. Not even after the damage you caused tonight.”

“No,” Hawk said simply, calculating the odds of him and Rita surviving if Tommy let loose with his shotgun.

The man with the revolver shook his head slowly, then raised his weapon at Hawk.

The boom was deafening, and the man with the revolver pitched backwards into the snow, a gaping wound appearing in the center of his forehead.

Tommy the shotgun man glanced around startled, unsure of what had just happened.

Hawk shot him in the neck and chin and he pitched backwards as well, the shotgun discharging high in the air.

Hawk was on his feet and picking Rita up when he heard running footsteps behind him. He spun quickly and saw both Vinnie and Leonard come up with their pistols drawn. Vinnie in jeans and a heavy black jacket, Leonard dressed immaculately in a dark gray worsted wool suit and black tie and wearing horn-rimmed glasses, kind of favoring a school teacher. One you didn’t want to lie to about not doing your homework.

“The fuck these guys keep comin’ from?” Vinnie said.

“Cover the street,” Hawk said, moving Rita over to his Escalade. She was limp and Hawk knew she was probably in shock. Best to get her out of harm’s way first, then deal with that.

“I take it we ain’t waiting for the cops?” Vinnie said.

Hawk didn’t even bother to respond, simply closed the door once Rita was inside then moved to the driver’s side and got in.

Vinnie covered the street while Leonard returned to his car and followed Hawk’s SUV.

Once they were both clear, Vinnie got his car and followed. The sirens were close and Vinnie Morris definitely did not want to be the only one left to explain all the bodies to the cops.

#  _Chapter 24_

Frank Belson and Lee Farrell arrived at Rita’s place about an hour after the shootout in front of the Ritz-Carlton.

Belson was wearing an old tan trench coat with the belt undone and Farrell had on a brand new gray heavy windbreaker. And, of course, Belson was chewing on the back end of a thin, smelly cigar.

Hawk let them in and they all went into the living room. He told them that Rita was in the bathroom at the moment and might be a while.

Belson told him that was all right because for right now they wanted to talk to him. And take a look at his gun.

Hawk smiled and sat down on the sofa.

“And what makes you think I have a gun, Sergeant?”

“Don’t dick around with me, Hawk,” Belson said firmly, eyeing him hard. “We got a lot of bodies on the street in front of the Ritz and all the witnesses we talked to described you and Rita Fiore to a tee. Plus some short guy and another taller black guy dressed like a preacher or something. All carrying pieces. My guess be the little guy was Vinnie Morris. Don’t know who the other black guy was, but I sure intend to find out.”

“Hawk,” Farrell said, attempting diplomacy and reason. “We know somebody made another try at Ms. Fiore and that you were just protecting her. Nobody thinks you did anything wrong. We’re just looking for a little cooperation is all.”

Belson snorted.

“Who says we don’t think he did anything wrong? He’s a hired fucking gun, Farrell. He shoots people all the time. And probably not all of them thugs like the guys tonight.”

“Yeah, Sarge,” Farrell placated. “But we’re only interested in tonight, right?”

Belson snorted again, then turned away, glancing around the room.

Hawk stared at Farrell for a few moments, then stood up and went to get his magnum, opening the cylinder and taking out the shells. He handed it to the detective.

“This’ll match how many of the bodies?” Farrell said.

“You tell me, Detective,” Hawk said, retaking his seat.

Farrell sighed and took a large evidence bag out of his jacket pocket, depositing the pistol into it and sealing the bag.

“We need to know who else was involved, Hawk,” Farrell said. “We just want to talk, same as with you.”

Hawk put a foot up on the edge of the coffee table and smiled amiably at the two cops, but said not another word.

“Fuck, I’d really love to run you in, Hawk,” Belson growled, taking the cigar from his mouth and crushing it. “I want to so bad I can taste it. And one of these days you gonna go too far. Maybe you already have. And nobody will be able to help you, not even that overgrown Boy Scout, Spenser.”

Hawk still said nothing, and then the back bedroom door opened and Rita came out.

#  _Chapter 25_

Belson and Farrell left an hour later, Belson still fuming.

Once they were gone, Rita rushed to Hawk and buried her head in his chest. He held her shaking body for a long time, then moved her over to the sofa and went to get her a cup of tea.

Once she had calmed down and drank half the tea, she looked at Hawk directly for the first time.

“This stuff really doesn’t bother you, does it?”

“What?”

“Killing. Having people try to kill you. It doesn’t bother you?”

Hawk was silent and still for a long time, then shook his shaved head slowly.

“Nope. Been at this too long. It’s what I do. What I’m good at. Don’t necessarily enjoy it, but don’t mind it either. Those fellas tonight had choices, they made the wrong one. Simple as that.”

Rita continued to stare at him over her teacup, then took another deep sip before putting the cup down on the coffee table.

“This is now officially too much, Hawk. For the second time Roger has sent men to abduct me.”

“Actually the third time,” Hawk corrected. “If you recall the visit from Carmine and the crew a few weeks back.”

Rita nodded, shivering again.

“Well yeah. But at least that time nobody died. I was hoping Roger would back off after that, let this drop. But he doesn’t appear to be willing.”

“I could make him willing, Rita,” Hawk said evenly.

Rita stared back at him for a long time.

“Hawk, I know you could kill him, but like I said, he is powerful. If he were to die, especially violently, it might get the attention of a lot of other powerful people. I really would not like this to become a larger spectacle than it already is. And I don’t want you getting in trouble because of me.”

“That part you can let me worry about, babe,” Hawk said.

Rita shook her head and put her hand on his knee.

“No, Hawk,” she said with even more firmness. “No. I don’t want you to do that. I just need to come up with another way to deal with Roger. And sooner rather than later. I already know I’m gonna get an earful from Jared and the rest of the senior partners when they find out about this. I’m just glad this happened on a Friday. No doubt they’ll hear about it before the weekend is out though.”

Hawk sat silently and looked at her for a few minutes, then turned and stared into the fire. It was beginning to die down. He got up and put another log on.

Rita glanced at her teacup and then shifted her position on the sofa, looking up at Hawk.

“You know what I could use right now?” she said with a grin.

“I know what you gonna get right now,” he told her seriously.

She reached out a hand and he took it. Then he sat down and she came into his arms.

Her robe came off and she was naked.

A short time later, Hawk was naked too.

#  _Chapter 26_

Rita had been right. Before the weekend was out the senior partners at Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin had heard. And they were not happy.

Jared Briggs had called, first asking if Rita was all right, then telling her that he and the other senior partners had talked, and they wanted to talk with her first thing on Monday morning.

Despite this development, and the repeated calls from the media, Rita had a pretty good weekend. This was largely due to the liberal carnality that took place from Friday night on, culminating in a late Sunday evening session that had left her completely spent, not to mention grinning from ear to ear. But she had survived.

As had Hawk.

Now it was Monday.

It was snowing heavily, but that didn’t keep the press from camping outside Rita’s condo.

And when she and Hawk arrived at the Cone, Oakes building near Rowe’s Warf, the circus continued. Luckily a small force of security guards came out and kept them back. Otherwise Hawk was prepared to have Vinnie kneecap a few of them.

Rita stopped by her office first and then proceeded up to the top floor where the executive conference room was located.

Hawk went with her, but when they reached the reception area outside the conference room she turned to him and put a hand on his chest.

“I have to do this part by myself,” she told him quietly, her eyes on his. “But not to worry. Believe me, in this kind of environment, I can handle myself just fine.”

Hawk stared down into her eyes for several moments and then nodded.

“I be right out here if you need me. Just yell.”

Rita grinned, leaning in closer.

“After this weekend I don’t know if I have enough voice left to yell,” she whispered. “But thanks for the thought. See you in a bit.”

Today Rita had on a black suit, a skirt that was probably just barely legal length, probably not so south of the Mason-Dixon Line. When she turned to go into the conference room Hawk didn’t even try to disguise his careful surveillance of her smooth legs through the clear hosiery she wore. Rita really did have great muscle development, and was quite flexible for a woman her age. Whatever that was.

There were three security guards in blue blazers arrayed in the outer office. Neither of them said anything to Hawk but from time to time each stared at him surreptitiously, somewhat nervously. No doubt they had been warned that Rita would be accompanied by someone that the senior partners did not want to enter the conference room. If Hawk had tried they most likely had orders to stop him.

Inwardly each man was relieved that Hawk had not tried to enter the conference room. Each of them knew that they didn’t have the skills it would have taken to prevent him, and furthermore, they knew they didn’t get paid enough for the aggravation. Let alone the pain.

Hawk smiled at the guards and went over to the sofa in the far corner and sat down, crossing his long legs and stretching out on the cushions.

And from that point on nobody said anything.

#  _Chapter 27_

Rita came out at ten and she was not smiling. She looked at Hawk briefly and then headed out the door. Hawk stood and followed her.

They rode down on the elevator in silence and when they reached her office she walked past her staff without a word.

Hawk followed her into the inner office and shut the door.

Rita went to her desk and stared out the large window behind it, arms crossed over her chest.

Hawk stood silently and watched her for a long time.

Ten minutes later Rita turned and looked at him.

“The partners want me to take a leave of absence,” she said flatly. “Until this thing is resolved. Whenever that is. They say it’s bad for the firm to have one of its partners involved in something like this, something involving shootings and killings. They say some of the firm’s clients have expressed concerns. Which is probably bullshit. Some of our clients are real pieces of shit, especially the ones I deal with on the criminal side. More likely a few of the partners that I’ve clashed with over the years are looking to use this situation to weaken me. Jared Briggs too because I haven’t given in to his advances since he made managing partner. He knows I didn’t vote for him either. Probably wants to teach me a lesson.”

“Offer goes there as well,” Hawk said affably. “Can whack him for you, too. Or at least bust his kneecaps.”

Rita grinned and shook her head, moving over to sit down.

“That’s sweet, Hawk,” she said. “And I appreciate the offer, but I think I’ll pass. At least for now. But I’ll definitely keep it in mind for later.”

Hawk nodded and came to sit down in one of the comfortable client chairs in front of Rita’s desk.

“So what you gonna do now?” he said.

She stared back at him for several moments, nibbling on her bottom lip. Then she sat forward and drummed her fingers across the back of her desk.

“I need to talk to Roger,” she said with iron in her voice. “Face-to-face. I need to resolve this once and for all. I should have done it before now. I see that now. After that first incident I should have gone to see him.”

“Not alone,” Hawk said.

“Of course not,” she said. “I’m not that dumb. Even if I had gone to see him in the beginning I wouldn’t have gone alone, sweetie. I’d have called you. Spenser too if he wasn’t in Japan. No, I’d take backup. The best there was available.”

Hawk nodded, saying nothing.

“Roger’s mother is throwing a gala tomorrow night at their place in the Back Bay,” Rita said. “And as it happens, I am on the guest list. It’s been planned for months. I think I should go there tomorrow and have a talk with Roger. In front of plenty of witnesses.”

Hawk nodded.

“Is that invitation for two?” he said.

“Of course,” she said. “Although I suspect when it was sent to me Roger’s mom thought her son would be my date. Her mistake. And a treat for me. I get to see my sleek, ebony-skinned _fuck-buddy_ in a tux.”

Rita was grinning.

Hawk smiled, too.

“And I get to see you all dolled up and frilly,” he said.

“Honey, you get to see me anyway you want,” she told him. “And wearing anything you want. Or not.”

She and Hawk stared at one another for a long time.

Then there was a knock at the door and the world intruded once more.

Rita sat back and told the door knocker to come in.

#  _Chapter 28_

The snow stopped Monday night and held off all day Tuesday. By nightfall the temperature was in the teens, but clear with very little wind.

Hawk and Rita arrived at the Adderwood Estate just after eight, Rita in a strapless little black dress that stopped three inches above her knees, and Hawk in a black tux and matching shirt and bowtie.

Most of the great and the good and the famous of the Commonwealth were in attendance, all attired in the most expensive garments that their fat wallets could buy.

When Hawk and Rita entered the main room all eyes turned their way. They were an odd couple for the circumstances, and not one that anyone seemed to recognize. This made them all the more intriguing.

Rita was stunning and Hawk was exotic.

There were long stares and careful whispers. Speculations and promulgations.

And rampant gossip.

Rita leaned close to Hawk and whispered in his ear.

“There was probably a time when we’d have been strung up for showing up at a place like this together.”

“Probably a few want to do that now,” Hawk said to her, continuing to look at all the well-fed and overfed around him.

Rita grinned and a passing waiter stopped to offer them drinks. They each took a glass of champagne.

“You see Adderwood yet?” Hawk asked.

“No,” Rita said. “But that’s his mom over there talking with the senator.”

“The big woman with the pearls?” he said.

“Yep,” Rita said, sipping her drink. “That’s Edna Adderwood. Matriarch of the family.”

“She got the build for it,” Hawk said.

Rita smiled again.

“A formidable woman. Likes to get her own way, too. Guess that’s where Roger gets it.”

“Sure you don’t want to marry into all this?” Hawk said.

Rita turned and stared at him sharply.

“Not for all the money in the world, Hawk,” she said seriously. “Especially not now. I used to think Roger was just a little too possessive. But now I know he’s nuts. And I don’t want any part of him. I’m hoping that tonight I can convince him of that.”

“Well maybe if you can’t,” Hawk said, “I can.”

Rita looked up at him once more and was about to say something when they were approached by a couple of off-the-rack tuxedo-clad types who looked very much out of place. They were big and their clothes barely fit them, and they had receiver pieces in their ears.

Security.

And if Hawk needed any more confirmation of that, he received it a short time later when he saw Carmine a few yards away over near the entrance to the large ballroom.

He was also wearing a tux, and his fit better, but he was still out of place.

Carmine smiled at Hawk and Hawk nodded.

“Boss want to see you in his office, ma’am,” one of the toughs said to Rita. “Just you.”

“I don’t go anywhere without Hawk,” Rita said evenly, just a hint of nervousness in her voice.”

“That’s not what the boss wants,” the man said, eyeing Hawk hard.

“Don’t matter what the boss want,” Hawk said amiably. “The lady said she ain’t going nowhere without me. So if the boss want to see her, he gonna see me too.”

Both security men were now looking at Hawk, then the talker turned and looked at Carmine.

Carmine was still smiling, then he nodded and turned and went out the door.

The man turned back to Hawk and Rita, nodding.

“All right,” he said.

One led the way as Hawk and Rita followed.

The other one brought up the rear.

And all around them no one seemed to notice a thing.

Or at least they would pretend they hadn’t if questioned by the police later.

#  _Chapter 29_

Roger Adderwood was what you would expect. Tall, handsome, well-dressed, well-fed, and arrogant.

When Rita and Hawk were led into his private study on the back side of the second floor Adderwood was seated behind a large dark oak desk near the back of the room. He was the picture of the in-charge executive used to getting his own way, and crushing those who tried to stop him.

He had thick curly dark hair, a prominent nose, thin lips, and a healthy tan, probably the result of a recent trip to some beach in the Caribbean or perhaps some place farther south.

Adderwood sat perfectly still, his hands folded on the desk in front of him. He was smiling when he saw Rita, not so much when he saw Hawk.

“A pleasure to see you again, Rita,” Adderwood spoke genially. “Good of you to come. Mother was looking forward to seeing you again. As was I.”

Rita stopped about fifteen feet from the desk and Hawk stopped behind her, turning so that he could keep an eye on Carmine and his associates.

“Roger,” Rita said as calmly as she could.

“And who is your friend there?” he asked, nodding toward Hawk.

“His name is Hawk,” Rita said.

“Well, where have you been keeping him?” Adderwood said with a strange tint to his voice. “Didn’t know you swung that way, love.”

“There are a lot of things you don’t know about me, Roger,” Rita told him. “Mainly because you don’t know how to listen.”

“Now don’t be that way, Rita,” Adderwood said, standing but remaining behind the desk. “We are friends after all. And more. And why are you standing all the way over there? Come closer. I won’t bite. Promise. Unless you ask me to.”

Adderwood smiled like a Cheshire cat and Hawk turned to stare at him briefly.

This had the effect of stilling Adderwood’s blood, but he recovered quickly.

“I asked you in here so that we could talk privately. Try to resolve this misunderstanding we’ve been having these past few weeks.”

“You mean the men you’ve been sending to kidnap me?” Rita said directly. “All the people who’ve died because of your sick obsession?”

“Is love an obsession, Rita? Is not true love worth any price? Even human life?”

“Roger, I don’t know how I can make you understand this. But I will try again. I no longer want to have anything to do with you. Please leave me alone. I have kept your name out of this, kept it from the police, but if you persist, I will have no choice. And I’m sure your mother would not like for a scandal such as this to get out.”

“My mother is of no concern,” Adderwood said, waving a hand and walking around to the front of the desk, perching on the edge. “I am the head of the family and all of its businesses. The man in charge. And as for this thing you said about sending men to abduct you, about people being killed, I’m sure I know nothing about this. And there would be no way that anyone could prove otherwise. Least of all the police.”

“Roger…” Rita pleaded. “Roger, you have to stop this.”

He smiled again, cold, wicked, unperturbed.

“Rita, you will come back to me. You simply have no other choice. I want you. That is all that is important. And no matter how many black bodyguards you hire, or fuck for that matter, in the end you will be mine again. You already are, actually.”

Hawk sighed and turned, moving very quickly, grabbing Roger Adderwood by the front of his very expensive shirt and pulling him off the desk, lifting him up into the air with one hand and spinning him toward the door.

Carmine and the other security men reacted quickly, but not quick enough. Their hands were still under their jackets by the time Hawk was using Adderwood as a shield, Rita at his back, a small caliber automatic pressed into Adderwood’s right temple.

“Tell ‘em to get out and close the door,” Hawk said very deliberately, pressing the barrel of the pistol hard against Adderwood’s head. “Tell ‘em now or I blow your brains all across that Rembrandt over there.”

Adderwood tried to struggle but Hawk held him firmly, and after a few seconds he acquiesced and ordered his men out of the room.

Carmine moved reluctantly, his eyes never leaving Hawk’s, and he was the last out of the room.

“If you harm me you will never get out of here alive,” Adderwood croaked after Hawk released him. “Neither of you.”

“You be surprised,” Hawk said casually, slipping the automatic back into his pocket.

He turned to Rita who was now leaning against the front of the desk, her skin very pale.

“You okay?” he said.

She pressed a hand to her chest, taking a deep breath, then nodded.

“Yeah. What are you doing, Hawk? You promised…”

“I promised I wouldn’t kill him,” Hawk told her. “At least not unless he started something. I’m keeping that promise. For now.”

He looked back at Adderwood.

“But this fool like to hear his own voice. Got tired of his bullshit. He was mostly playin’ for his hired muscles anyway. Trying to be a tough guy. Boring the hell out of me. So I figure we move things along more if it just the three of us.”

“Look, pal,” Adderwood tried to recover his dominance. “I don’t know who the hell you think you are, but I am Roger Coleman Adderwood III and…”

Hawk closed on him again, slapping him very hard across the face.

Once!

Twice!

And a third time!

“I know who you are, motherfucker! And I don’t give a fuck! This lady been tryin’ to tell you somethin’. You better goddamn listen ‘fore I start to get pissed. Then it won’t matter how much muscle you hire. I kill every last one of them. And the ones you hire after that. Then I burn this place down. Maybe with your momma in it. And I kill you too if I feel like it.”

Adderwood had dropped to his knees and was staring up at Hawk in horror, his face red from the recent impacts, blood smears around his lips.

Rita stepped up next to Hawk and looked down at him.

“Roger, leave me alone, please. End this. Let it go here. Hawk is serious. If you keep coming after me, he will do what he says. I won’t be able to stop him. Don’t know if I’d want to. Leave me alone. That’s all I ask.”

They waited.

Adderwood continued to rock back and forth, holding his face, his eyes burning with humiliation and hatred.

Finally Hawk took another deep breath and reached into his pocket for the automatic.

Rita put a hand on his arm and shook her head.

“Fine,” Hawk said. “Then let’s go. Party’s gettin’ old.”

They left the study, passing Carmine and his men in the hallway.

Carmine eyed Hawk hard but made no move to stop them from leaving.

Downstairs they retrieved their coats and left without further incident.

Outside, both Vinnie Morris and Leonard had been waiting in their respective cars on opposite ends of the street. Both heavily armed and ready to invade the Adderwood residence if signaled. Luckily for all concerned that had not been necessary.

Especially lucky for Roger Adderwood.

#  _Chapter 30_

Hawk was in Tony Marcus’ office a couple of afternoon’s later. They were drinking coffee.

“So how Leonard working out?” Tony said.

“Doing what needs doing,” Hawk said. “And he good at that.”

“Yes he is,” Tony said. “You got any idea how long you need him? Some other work starting to pile up. I got others can do it, but Leonard be real good at it, which I’m sho’ you know.”

Hawk took another swallow of coffee and set the cup down on the front edge of Tony’s desk.

“Might be a while yet,” he said. “This thing don’t look like it goin’ end soon as I like.”

“Thing with the lawyer with the nice legs?” Tony said.

Hawk stared back at him silently.

“You knew Leonard gonna tell me all about it,” the mob boss said. “He do work for me after all. Fiore used to be a DA. Tried to bust me a few times. Didn’t work out. Only time I got pinched was when your honkie friend Spenser set me up.”

“Didn’t set you up, Tony,” Hawk told him evenly. “You did the crime. And you only got a few years. Didn’t do you no harm. That fifteen year old girl still dead though.”[***]

Both men were silent for a time.

Eventually Tony Marcus grinned and finished his coffee.

“Water under the bridge,” he said. “New day, new business. Keep Leonard long as you need him. Anything else you need?”

“One thing,” Hawk said. “You know a guy named Carmine? Works for Roger Adderwood as a security consultant or something. But he got thug written all over him.”

“Good guess,” Tony said. “He is one. Used to be a minor guy with Gus Harley’s crew before the old man retired. Enforcement, some other stuff. Mean but smart.”

“Gus Harley,” Hawk said. “Name I ain’t heard in a while.”

“No reason to,” Tony said. “He out of it now. Just an old man waiting to die. Both his boys dead. Georgie had Kevin killed in prison and old Gus iced Georgie.[†††] You know ‘bout that ‘cause you and Spenser there when it happened. Anyway, nobody left to run the business, other crews started moving in; soon the old man had nothing left.”

“And Carmine took a walk and now he work for Roger Adderwood. Wonder how that happened? How a thug like Carmine end up working for a rich creep like Adderwood?”

“No tellin’, Hawk. You know strange things happen all the time. Nobody get as rich as the Adderwoods without getting their hands dirty. Probably an old connection somewhere, maybe with the Harley crew. No way to tell for sure.”

Hawk nodded.

“Probably right.”

“But you want to know anyway?” Tony said.

“I do,” Hawk said.

Tony grinned.

“Then I see what I can find out.”

“Thanks,” Hawk said.

“Sure,” Tony said.

They were silent again.

Then Hawk stood and left the office.

#  _Chapter 31_

They were in Rita’s bed, the lights on low, classical music playing in the background. Mozart.

Rita turned on her side and put a bare leg across Hawk’s lower body.

“After the day I had I really needed that,” she said in a dreamy voice. “Anybody ever tell you that you have a great medicinal quality about you?”

Hawk smiled and turned to look at her, his right arm around her waist.

“Maybe you should bottle me up then.”

She grinned, kissing his thick lips.

“Don’t want you in a bottle,” she said. “Want you right here doing what you were doing.”

“Ready again?” he teased.

“God, Hawk, don’t you ever tire? I’m gonna need a little while yet.”

“I understand,” Hawk said with a straight face. “As you age you do slow down, your stamina not what it used to be.”

Rita punched his powerful abs and her fist stung. Then she climbed on top of him and straddled his lower body.

“I’ll show you how much stamina I’ve got,” she roared, then leaned down and kissed him.

She was pressing her lower body against his, feeling his tumescence return in full. She was wet and her nipples were hard and she couldn’t wait any longer.

Rita was reaching for a condom on the nightstand when the telephone rang. This annoyed her and she wanted to ignore it, but then something told her not to.

A short time later she wished she had.

By the time Rita was dressed in jeans and a sweat top, Hawk was already dressed and waiting for her in the living room.

The call had been from Frank Belson. Something bad had happened.

Something very bad.

#  _Chapter 32_

Estelle Garrett lived in a fifth floor apartment just off of Dorchester Street in South Boston. Or she had until tonight.

When Hawk and Rita arrived, the entire street was lit up by police car lights, and despite the cold, there was a throng of bystanders and onlookers behind yellow police tape trying to see what was going on.

Rita had been crying and when Hawk parked down the street from where everything was going on, he turned to look at her. He reached out and touched her arm and she clung to him.

“I know this hard, babe,” he said soothingly. “But you strong and you get through this.”

Rita sobbed again.

A few minutes later she wiped her eyes with a tissue she took from her purse, then told Hawk she was ready.

They got out of the Escalade and started up the snow-covered street. Soon they saw reporters and camera operators amongst the crowd and it wasn’t long before they spotted Rita, and someone recognized her.

Hawk interceded, somewhat forcefully, and everyone backed off. But questions still came, and were ignored.

A cop working the perimeter was about to stop them as they stepped under the tape, but then he recognized Hawk from Frank Belson’s description and said they could pass.

On the fifth floor the activity was intense. Cops in uniform and not, crime scene techs, coroner’s assistants, and civilians, probably other residents of the building.

Frank Belson was at the other end of the hall wearing his trusty wrinkled trench coat and chewing on yet another tiny cigar. When he saw Hawk and Rita his face became more of a scowl. He nodded and waved them over.

“All right, Flaherty,” he said to a uniform, “get on back downstairs and help out with crowd control. And make sure you keep your mouth shut around the press.”

The uniformed officer nodded and took off.

“What happened, Frank?” Rita asked in a strained voice. “I mean on the phone you said Estelle was…” She broke off and sobbed. Hawk put a hand on her shoulder.

Belson was not in the best of moods, but even he was moved by the woman’s sadness. His scowl eased somewhat.

“I’m sorry about this, Counselor,” he told her sincerely. “I need you to make a positive ID, just routine. You know how this goes. You’re not family, but seeing as how you knew her so well and all.”

Rita stiffened, and then nodded.

“All right.”

In the apartment were more cops and crime scene people. And Captain of Detectives Martin Quirk.

Quirk glanced over as they came in, and then went back to studying the scene.

Belson indicated they should turn right down a small hallway. In the back bedroom they found her. She was face-up in the middle of the bed, mostly dried blood soaked into the sheets. She was completely naked, her throat had been cut, and there were deep cuts all along her chest, arms, and legs, as if she had been tortured first.

Rita turned away in horror and buried her head in Hawk’s chest. He held her tightly and looked at Frank Belson.

“That her,” he said. “I seen her pretty much every day for the last few weeks. I can do the ID.”

Belson nodded.

They turned and left the room.

#  _Chapter 33_

They were downstairs in Quirk’s car. Quirk and Belson up front, Hawk and Rita in Back.

Belson was at the wheel and Quirk sat sideways so he could look at Rita. Outside the car several uniformed officers stood guard and kept the reporters back.

Rita had finally stopped crying but Hawk kept his hand on her arm for support.

Quirk sat patiently, keeping his growing rage under control, but only barely.

“Well do you want to tell me about it now, Rita?” Quirk nudged as gently as he could; or maybe as much as he felt like. “I know you’re upset about your friend in there, but I need you to talk to me now, Rita. I know this is connected to everything else that’s been going on. So far I’ve let you slide on coming clean with me because I know you real well, and you used to be a hell of a DA, but now that’s over. You have to talk to me now, and tell me everything. No choice in the matter.”

Hawk was staring at the police captain with a serene expression on his dark face. This expression had chilled the blood of many very bad guys in the past, but this tough Irish cop didn’t even blink.

Rita stared back at Marty Quirk for several minutes, then glanced at Hawk.

“You gotta tell him, baby girl,” he said gently. “I know what you worried about, but now he gotta know. You know you can trust him. I do. Tell him, maybe he can help. And be better if he know anyway.”

Rita sighed deeply, a tear coming to her left eye, then she nodded and turned back to Quirk.

She told him everything.

Quirk listened without interruption.

After she finished and Hawk added his part, Quirk sat back and thought for a long time while Belson took out another cigar and began to chew on it.

Finally Quirk nodded.

“I now know why you kept your mouth shut,” he said honestly. “Can’t say as I blame you either, considering how much dough and clout this Adderwood guy’s got. You might be right, he might just be untouchable. But that don’t mean he gonna get away with this. If he is the one behind it.”

“Oh, he the one, Captain,” Hawk said. “No doubt about that. He crazy as hell.”

“I’ll take your word for it,” Quirk said. “And seeing as how you embarrassed him by kicking his ass in his own home, he’s probably more nuts now. This thing with Gus Harley’s old muscle interests me. You say Tony Marcus is doing some digging?”

Hawk nodded.

“He is.”

“I’ll be interested in hearing anything he finds out.”

“Keep it in mind,” Hawk said.

“Old Gus is what, eighty-five now? He’s long out of the game since his sons died. Don’t recall this Carmine fella. Maybe you should see if you can come up with something from OC[‡‡‡], Frank.”

Belson nodded.

“Got a last name for him?” he said over his shoulder.

“Constantine,” Hawk said. “Carmine Constantine.”

“Cute,” Belson said, writing in his notebook.

“Okay, Hawk, why don’t you take her home. And keep her safe. I’m gonna look into this as careful as I can. There won’t be any direct link to Adderwood. I know that, but maybe something will turn up. I’m putting this whole thing together with the original kidnap attempt last month, and that thing outside the Ritz-Carlton. If we get real lucky maybe I can tie it around Adderwood’s neck and drop him in the harbor.”

“And if you’re not lucky, Marty,” Rita said directly, “it could cost you everything.”

Quirk actually smiled and reached into the backseat to touch her arm.

“You know we Irish, Rita, all a bunch of hopeless romantics who think we can take on the world and win.”

She stared back at him for a long time, and then smiled herself, leaning forward and kissing him on the cheek.

Belson pulled out and drove them down to where Hawk had parked, then they got out and got into Hawk’s SUV.

A few moments later they were on their way and Quirk told Belson to head back to the crime scene.

#  _Chapter 34_

Two mornings later Hawk and Rita were having coffee in her dining room when Leonard knocked on the door.

“Tony called and told me to tell you some things about a guy named Carmine Constantine.”

Hawk nodded and asked if he wanted coffee. Leonard said he would prefer tea.

Rita made him a cup and the three of them sat down while Leonard told his tale.

“According to what Mr. Marcus was able to uncover,” Leonard spoke in perfect English without any trace of a regional accent, “Mr. Constantine used to work in Mr. Gus Harley’s delinquent accounts division.”

Hawk grinned.

“Meaning he used to collect on bad debts,” Hawk said. “He a leg breaker.”

“And more,” Leonard continued. “According to Mr. Marcus, Mr. Constantine was sent to deal with some of the Harley organization’s more reluctant debtors. Serious guys who thought they should get a break. What they got was Carmine Constantine.”

“So he was the blood debt collector?” Hawk said. “The real serious muscle.”

“Exactly,” Leonard said. “When Carmine went out on a job, there was going to be blood. Most likely somebody was going to die. And there would definitely be a collection, no doubt about that.”

Rita shook her head, holding her cup in both hands on the table in front of her.

“So how does a man like that come to work for a man like Roger Adderwood?” she said. “I mean, it just doesn’t seem likely. The Adderwood family is wealthy, always has been. I just can’t believe they would ever do business with a man like Gus Harley. If they ever needed money I’m sure half the banks in the Commonwealth would be only too happy to lend them a few billion.”

Leonard paused and drank some tea before continuing.

“Mr. Marcus was curious about that as well,” he said. “So he continued to pursue the matter. Eventually he was able to discover that some time back in the 1960’s Mr. Roger Adderwood II got into a bit of a jam with some gentlemen from Chicago. A bad business deal. They were threatening him and his family and Mr. Adderwood II turned to a local hood for help.”

“Gus Harley?” Rita said, incredulous. “He turned to that thug for help instead of the cops?”

“So it would appear,” Leonard said. “It is likely that the business Mr. Adderwood II was involved with was of the illegal variety and therefore he could not go to the authorities as it were. So he only had one other option.”

“The criminal authorities,” Hawk said. “And in that case, Augustus Francis Harley, the one-time top boss in Boston. Any idea how they knew each other? If they knew each other before this?”

“According to Mr. Marcus, they did. Apparently the Adderwood family had been doing business with the Harley gang for quite some time before this incident with the Chicago people.”

“Jesus,” Rita said. “So the Adderwood family is really nothing but a bunch of crooks.”

“Not as much under the old man,” Leonard told her. “But since the son has taken over, it would appear that the Adderwood family is really becoming part of the _Family_ , so to speak.”

“Are you saying that Roger Adderwood is a mobster?” Rita said.

“In a word, ma’am,” Leonard looked directly at her, “yes.”

The impact of those words were like a slap in the face. Rita sat back, unable to speak.

Hawk absorbed everything Leonard had said and was instantly curious as to why this was the first he was hearing of this connection. Especially when he considered just how thorough a bastard Elliot Ives was.

Leonard finished his tea and left.

Hawk took out his cell and called Vinnie, telling him to come up and keep Rita company.

“Where are you going?” Rita demanded as Hawk put on his coat. “I know that look by now, Hawk. You might be able to fool everybody else, but I know when you’re pissed off.”

He stared at her and grinned, reached out and gently placed both hands on her shoulders.

“You stay with Vinnie and you be safe. I be back in a little while. Promise. Then we maybe see about going somewhere nice for lunch.”

Vinnie came in a moment later and Hawk went out.

Rita stared after him, looking at the closed door to her condo for several cold minutes, then she turned and looked at Vinnie Morris sitting on her living room sofa listening to his iPod.

She shook her head and turned for the hallway that led to her bedroom. She was oblivious to the fact that Vinnie’s dark eyes followed her ass the whole way to the door.

#  _Chapter 35_

Todd stood up from his desk the moment Hawk walked in. He was going for menacing, but ended up with scared shitless.

Hawk walked right up to the desk, staring directly into the other man’s eyes with emptiness in his. When he spoke his voice was barely above a whisper.

“Ives. Now.”

Todd stood frozen and Hawk stood looking at him. After maybe thirty seconds the door behind him opened and Ives appeared in the doorway, a genial smile on his heavily wrinkled face.

“Why my Black Prince. Another visit so soon. To what do I owe the pleasure?”

Hawk smiled at Todd, very coldly, then moved past the desk and into Ives’ office.

When they were both seated Hawk just sat and stared at the spook for a few minutes.

This didn’t seem to faze Ives because he had been in far deadlier situations over the course of three decades in the covert world of the CIA. He knew how dangerous the man sitting across from him could be, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve that he felt certain could even the odds should that be necessary. After all, they were in his inner sanctum.

“So what can I do for you today, Black Prince?” Ives said, sitting back and taking a pipe out of his middle desk drawer.

Hawk leaned forward in his chair.

“You can tell me why you didn’t tell me all you knew about Roger Adderwood when I asked, mothafucka!”

“Such harsh language, Black Prince,” Ives smiled, slipping the unlit pipe between his lips. “And between colleagues such as ourselves. Men who have done one another great services over the years.”

“Ives, I’m not in the mood for your shit today,” Hawk said. “I want answers. And if you don’t give them to me straight I might just come across that desk and shake you till you do.”

Ives’ mood did not change, and he continued to hold the pipe stem between his thin lips for several more minutes.

Eventually he sighed and set the pipe on the desk.

“So you discovered the connection between the Adderwoods and organized crime?” he said.

“And you did know,” Hawk said.

“Of course,” Ives told him. “After all, I am in the business of knowing things.”

“And you didn’t tell me because?”

“Because I did not believe it was germane to your request, Black Prince,” Ives told him. “I did not believe you were investigating him as a criminal matter, just as it related to his harassing your friend. Therefore, I provided you with a background report that was full of detail, but lacked certain pieces of the family’s history. I did not deem it necessary to provide you that knowledge at the time. However, I was pretty sure that you would uncover it eventually.”

“Ives, some days I really want to hurt you,” Hawk told him. “Today is one of those days. This information was germane because it would have let me know that Adderwood had connections to real serious bad guys. That he had dealt with them before, as had his old man. And I would have known it was more likely he’d go that way.”

“I see your point,” Ives said, folding his hands on the back of the desk. “But surely you must realize there are other more serious implications here, things that are of a more delicate nature to consider.”

“Ives, I don’t know what you’re talking about. And I really don’t care. I know you always got some angle to play, something you working at. That fine. Long as it don’t interfere with what I’m doing. Which at the moment is trying to keep Rita Fiore from getting killed by a psychopath with hundreds of millions of dollars and access to real hardcore thugs who don’t give a fuck about killin’ anybody. You know they already killed a young girl, a law student worked at Cone, Oakes.”

“I heard,” Ives said. “I saw a story on the news about it. Tragic. And you are certain it is related to Mr. Adderwood?”

“Of course it related to him,” Hawk said. “She worked for Rita. Mothafucka sending Rita a message. He couldn’t get to her so he went after somebody close to her.”

“Well I suppose that won’t do at all,” Ives commented. “I take it you will be doing something about Mr. Adderwood in the near future?”

Hawk sat silently staring at the CIA man.

“Oh you can bet on that, Ives,” he said coldly. “Count on it. What I want from you now is everything you got on this fucker. And I do mean everything. You hold back on me this time and Todd gonna get his ass kicked even worse. Then you.”

Ives stared at Hawk for a long time, his face impassive. Finally he turned to his computer once more and began to type.

“I have some information,” he said absently as he worked. “But if you really want to know the ins and outs of the Adderwood connection to organized crime, I have a suggestion for you.”

Hawk waited.

Finally Ives turned and smiled.

Then he told him.

#  _Chapter 36_

At one time Gus Harley had been one of the top bosses in organized crime in the Boston metro area. For more than thirty years he had had his fingers in everything, drugs, prostitution, protection, numbers, contract killings. Anything and everything that was criminal, Gus Harley was involved.

But that was then.

Now he was an eighty-five year old man living in a small house in Milton waiting to die. Both his sons were gone, as were his soldiers and most of his wealth and influence.

Hawk had done work for the Harleys once or twice in the old days. He and Gus had always had a good relationship built on respect and trust. So when Hawk had called and said he needed to see the old man, Gus had eagerly agreed.

When Hawk arrived at the house he had a quick look around the neighborhood and it made him a little sad. To see a man once as powerful as Gus Harley living here. But that’s the way things went.

An old Mafioso type opened the door. Probably thirty years ago he had been in great shape, but now he was fat. Hawk recognized him and he recognized Hawk.

Gus was in the TV room in back when Hawk walked in. He was on oxygen but that still didn’t stop him from smoking. When Hawk walked in he saw the frail little figure sitting on a beat up brown sofa in the corner in front of a flat screen TV, a thick blanket wrapped around him.

He looked up and saw Hawk, smiled, then started coughing uncontrollably for several minutes.

The fat man who had answered the door came in with a glass of water and got Gus to drink some, then took his cigarette and stubbed it out in a near full ashtray on the scarred coffee table.

“Hawk, old friend,” Gus said in a very thin and wispy voice. “Good to see you again. Come, sit down. Talk to old Gus.”

Hawk moved over to the sofa and sat down, looking over at the little man and feeling a genuine pang of despair, or as close to it as he was capable.

“Good to see you, Gus,” Hawk lied. “How’s life been treating you?”

Harley tried to laugh, and this touched off another coughing fit. When it was over the retired mobster lit another cigarette and took a couple of puffs.

“Nearly both feet in the ground, Hawk,” he said. “But not yet. You’re looking fit and healthy though. Good to know that. Good to know some of the folks from the old days are still going strong.”

Hawk sat silently and stared for a few moments, then glanced around the depressing room.

Harley puffed some more, then leaned forward with great effort and crushed out his current cigarette.

“So, Hawk, tell me why you’ve come to see me today. I know it can’t be a social call. We were business associates, we respected each other, but we was never friends. I know you never thought much of my boys, especially Georgie, but I didn’t hold that against you. I know you’re here now because you need something. Spit it out.”

Hawk nodded.

“All right, Gus,” he said. “Tell me ‘bout Carmine Constantine.”

Gus Harley’s face became even paler, and there was genuine distaste on his old and weathered face. He tried to sit up but this only caused him to start coughing once more.

A few minutes later he was calm, leaning back against the cushions of the sofa and staring over at Hawk, his breath ragged.

“A really nasty piece of work,” Harley managed. “Used to do the most terrible things to people. A sadist. He hurt people real bad, Hawk. Women, children, too. I didn’t know it at first. Used to work for Georgie on collections. And you know what Georgie was like. I didn’t get word about what he was doing till after Georgie died. Then I cut him loose. Should have killed him, but I guess I was going soft ‘round that time.”

“How long ago, Gus?” Hawk said.

“I don’t know, Hawk,” Harley breathed. “Don’t think so well nowadays. But not too long after Georgie. Maybe six months. A little longer. Why you asking about that piece of shit?”

“What about the Adderwood family?” Hawk said.

Here Harley paused, and Hawk could see a certain wariness behind his rheumy eyes.

“Rich family,” the mobster said. “Society pages, fancy balls. Top of the local social scene.”

“And the old man was a business associate of yours, Gus,” Hawk said.

Harley managed a weak smile.

“That might have been the case at one time,” he said coyly.

“And you helped cool out some boys from Chicago back in the Sixties. Kept old man Adderwood and his family from gettin’ whacked. Damned considerate of you, Gus.”

Harley smiled again, coughed, and lit another cigarette.

“So you already know it,” he said, blowing smoke out through his nose.

“I know some,” Hawk said. “I need to know it all, Gus. And you the only one I know can tell me. I need to know more about the son. Roger Adderwood III. I need to know how deep he involved. And how Carmine Constantine came to work for him.”

Gus took a deep breath, coughed, reached for his oxygen mask as he dropped his cigarette into the ashtray. He inhaled several times and sat with his eyes closed for a long time before removing the mask, holding it to his chest as he stared at Hawk.

“That was Georgie’s too,” he said. “He and Adderwood Junior were friends. And both degenerates. Carmine, too. I’ll tell you what you want to know, Hawk. Just give me a few minutes.”

Hawk nodded and watched while Gus Harley, once one of the most feared men in town, held his oxygen mask to his clammy face and tried desperately to get his ancient lungs to accept the gas that would keep him alive for another miserable day.

Thoroughly depressing.

And some would say fitting for such a man.

But not Hawk.

#  _Chapter 37_

The family wanted the funeral to be private, no outsiders, no matter how close. And so the senior partners at Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin decided to have a memorial service for Estelle Garrett at the offices on the following Monday. Attendance was mandatory.

Since the killing Rita had not been back to the office. A combination of her desires and the wishes of her partners at the firm. While no one exactly blamed her for what happened, it was generally felt that having her around was not a good thing for the time being. All of her cases had been reassigned to other associates or junior partners, and if need be they could call and consult with Rita, which a few did.

They were in the large conference room just down the hall from Rita’s office suite. Everyone in black attire, everyone sad, some crying.

Rita had cried every day since the murder, but today she told Hawk there would be no tears. And she was true to her word. As she moved around the room talking to everyone she remained in control, almost detached. There were hugs, affirmations of support, even a few looks of disdain—especially from Jared Briggs—but through it all Rita Fiore never cracked.

Hawk found a spot on the wall near the door and kept an eye on every one. No one came up to him and tried to engage, although a few of the females in attendance did glance his way from time to time, a few far more obvious than was appropriate for the occasion.

Hawk ignored all of them, his mind on other things. Serious things.

When the memorial was over Jared Briggs wanted to see Rita up on the top floor in his office. Just the two of them.

Rita agreed, but Hawk accompanied them up on the elevator and waited out in the outer office while they met.

The meeting only lasted twenty minutes and when Rita came out her expression had not altered.

Hawk drove her home and she went into the bathroom to soak in the tub.

Hawk brought in a couple bottles of beer and gave her one, leaning against the wall across from the tub and sipping from his.

Rita held onto the bottle for several minutes before putting it down on the floor untouched.

“Want something stronger?” Hawk said.

Rita looked up at him.

“No,” she said. “Not right now. I just want to think some more. Could you leave me alone for a while, Hawk? I promise I’ll come out and talk to you in a bit. I need to make some decisions.”

“Sure,” Hawk told her, then turned and left.

He went into the living room and called Vinnie Morris on his cell phone. Vinnie reported that all was quiet outside, and cold as a witch’s tit.

Hawk went over to the sofa and sat down, reaching for his duffel bag and checking the contents. A complete arsenal, all clean and ready for action. Action that Hawk knew was coming sooner or later. It was unavoidable now.

Maybe it had always been.

Rita came out an hour later wearing a pale blue terrycloth bathrobe. Her thick red hair was still damp when she sat down next to Hawk and put her head against his shoulder.

He put an arm around her and held her close.

Soon her shoulders began to shake and she started sobbing.

Hawk held her in silence, until the worst of it had passed.

Rita pulled away and went to get a tissue, then came back and sat once more.

“I’m tired of doing that,” she told Hawk with defiance. “No more. I don’t want to cry anymore. And I don’t want to bury anymore of my friends. I want this over with Hawk. Do you understand?”

Her eyes were blazing and Hawk was looking directly into the heart of this very strong and determined woman.

“I was a fool before. I should not have been concerned about him. I should have let you do whatever it was you wanted to. Then maybe Estelle would be alive now. But I can’t do anything about that. It’s done. I want to hurt him, Hawk. I want to hurt him so badly.”

Hawk stared some more before finally nodding.

He leaned over and kissed her forehead, then held her to his chest once more.

“I think that can be arranged,” he said simply, and after that neither one of them had much else to say.

#  _Chapter 38_

Rita would not be returning to work for a while. It was her choice, but the senior partners at Cone, Oakes, in particular Jared Briggs, whole-heartedly supported this decision. Until they knew that the situation in which Rita found herself was resolved, everyone believed it best that she not come to the office or handle any cases for the firm.

This angered her, not because she needed money, she was quite well off after years of racking up large client fees. No, she was angered because she liked doing her job, liked representing her clients, even the guilty ones, and now she was being forced to give up doing what she loved and losing control of her life and her independence. Something she had fought very hard to get and always worked very hard to keep.

But now that was gone, at least for a little while, and she knew she would have to accept this, even if bitterly.

Further, she knew that she would have to accept the continued help of Hawk and his associates. Not that she really minded having Hawk around, especially since their relationship had moved to the physical. That was a very good distraction for her because it gave her something positive to focus on, but it still did not keep the anger from her mind. At least not for very long.

So after they had talked the previous evening, Hawk had decided that now was the time for her to go away for a while. Into seclusion where no one would know where she was, not even the police.

Rita had argued against it in the beginning, refusing to be run out of her own home. But then Hawk had coldly and logically explained that as long as she was where Adderwood could reach her, not only would she be in danger, but her neighbors and anyone around her would be also. This had the desired effect, and she agreed to leave.

Early the next morning Hawk, Vinnie Morris, and Leonard spirited Rita away in a clean car, taking her to a small airfield in New Hampshire where they were met by two very serious looking men standing beside a small business jet.

The smaller of the two men was Mexican. His name was Chollo.

He smiled and came forward to shake Hawk’s hand.

The other man was called Bobby Horse. A full-blooded Apache. He nodded at Hawk from his position by the plane, his eyes continually scanning the perimeter.

“Hey, Chollo,” Hawk said. “Thanks for coming so quickly.”

“You know the way it go, pal,” Chollo said with a grin. “Anything a poor and humble Mexican worker from the sticks can do for big city folks in need.”

Hawk smirked.

“Poor my ass. And last time I checked you lived in fucking Beverly Hills.”

Chollo chuckled and turned to Vinnie Morris.

“Been a while, Vinnie,” he said.

“Yeah,” Vinnie nodded. “That time Spenser and this one got us all nearly shot to hell out in the desert.[§§§] How you been?”

“Good,” Chollo said, then turned to Rita. “And you, Senorita, must be the lovely lady in question. Rita Fiore.”

Rita smiled a little uncertainly.

“I am.”

Chollo bowed.

“And a great pleasure to be of service to you, my lady.”

Rita’s smile grew wider and she turned to Hawk.

“I like him.”

“Good,” Hawk said. “But mind your wallet. He’s a slick one.”

“Don’t pay him any mind, Senorita,” Chollo said. “He’s just jealous that he ain’t got no Mexican blood in him.”

Rita continued to smile.

“I guess I don’t have to ask if you got a secure place.” Hawk said.

Chollo smirked.

“‘Course you don’t have to ask that. She’s going to be a guest of Mr. del Rio’s. Ain’t nobody gonna get near her there. You got my word, Hawk.”

Hawk nodded at the Mexican shooter.

“Good,” he said. And after a while added, “Thanks.”

Chollo grinned again.

Rita turned to Hawk and they walked a little ways away from everyone else.

“This might take a little while,” he told her. “But not too long.”

Rita nodded.

“Do you think it will get bad?”

“It already bad, lover. Might get worse. But don’t you worry about that. Whatever happen gotta happen now. This guy don’t want to listen to reason. So now I gotta do somethin’ that make him listen.”

Rita stared up into Hawk’s cold, dark eyes for a long, silent moment. She shivered.

“God, Hawk…”

He put a hand on her shoulder.

“Time to go, Rita,” he said. “And don’t worry. With Chollo and Bobby Horse looking after you, you’ll be fine.”

“I’d rather it was you looking after me,” she said.

“Me, too,” he said. “But these two are really good. And you’ll be staying at a place that the entire 82nd Airborne would have a tough time cracking. You’ll be safe. And as soon as I get this resolved I’ll call you. Promise.”

She stared some more, then nodded.

She put her hands on his chest and raised her face to his. He leaned down and kissed her briefly and then they turned back to the others.

The plane took off ten minutes later and Hawk, Vinnie, and Leonard returned to their cars. Leonard had some work to do for Tony Marcus and he took off to handle it.

Hawk and Vinnie were in the same vehicle and they sat at the airfield for a while, neither saying a word.

After maybe thirty minutes Vinnie sighed and looked at Hawk.

“I say we just go pop the guy and let it be done.”

Hawk grinned, starting the engine.

“Now why didn’t I think of that?” he said, putting the car in gear.

#  _Chapter 39_

According to the information provided by both Tony Marcus and Ives, Roger Adderwood ran a pretty successful loan sharking operation in Brookline, managed by Carmine Constantine.

It was operated from a small shop on Washington Street. After coming back from New Hampshire this was Hawk and Vinnie’s first stop.

It was cold, cloudy, and snowing. The perfect weather for what they had planned.

Hawk parked the car on a side street a block away and he and Vinnie went in on foot.

The place didn’t look like much from the outside and this was probably done on purpose. To attract as little attention as possible, especially from the cops.

Vinnie went in first, and a few minutes later Hawk followed.

The place didn’t look like much from the inside either. Ostensibly it was a coffee shop, a few scarred tables and chairs near the front windows, a counter in back with a haggard looking woman probably a lot younger than she looked working at it.

The tables were empty at the moment but there were three people at the counter being served by the woman. Vinnie had gone in and stood near the back wall where a sign indicated the bathroom was located. When Hawk came in the woman on the counter stared at him with a mixture of fear and uncertainty. She glanced at Vinnie and her fear grew.

“Not to worry, momma,” Hawk said easily, moving toward the counter. “We ain’t here to rob you. But for right now maybe you and your customers might want to take a walk. My associate there and I have business with the people in back.”

The fear and uncertainty grew, and when the woman looked at Vinnie again he was holding a stainless steel Ruger in his right hand down by his side.

That’s was all it took to get everyone in motion and heading for the door. The counterwoman was the last out, and she paused briefly to get her coat from a rack by the door, glancing timidly at Hawk.

He smiled at her again, then she was gone.

Hawk took a .40 caliber Glock from his belt and nodded at Vinnie, then they both moved toward the back of the shop.

#  _Chapter 40_

By late that evening Hawk and Vinnie had visited eight of the illicit businesses known to be associated with Roger Adderwood and Carmine Constantine. In each case, when they had departed, the business was in a state of disarray and the employees had been encouraged to seek employment elsewhere.

“Pretty good day’s work,” Vinnie said as Hawk dropped him off at his car. “Haven’t had this much fun shaking people down since I first started out with Joe almost three decades ago.”

“Well now that we started shaking the trees it shouldn’t be long before we get a reaction,” Hawk told him.

“What you think they’ll do?” Vinnie said, turning in the seat before getting out.

“Well Carmine a thug,” Hawk said. “And I suspect Adderwood is too, no matter how much bread and breeding he got. They won’t like it. They’ll try to find out who behind it. When they get the descriptions they’ll know me.”

“Who wouldn’t?” Vinnie said.

“Then Adderwood really be pissed. Think Rita behind it.”

“So he come after her again?”

“Probably. Gonna do that anyway. But now he be real mad.”

“And maybe he do something that the cops can bust him on?” Vinnie said.

“Either that or give me a good reason to scrag his ass.”

Vinnie laughed.

“Didn’t know you needed a good reason for that, Hawk,” Vinnie said.

Hawk smiled at the little enforcer.

“Well considering the man we dealing with, good to be prudent.”

“Prudent?” Vinnie said. “God you been spending too much time around Spenser, Hawk. Soon you be talking like a real honkie. Maybe even dating a Ph.D. from Harvard.”

“Who say I ain’t doing that already?” Hawk said.

Vinnie shook his head.

“Probably are. Anyway, I’m headed over to the Raj for a drink. Maybe two. Then home, maybe with some company if the scene is right. I’ll call you in the morning and see how things are.”

Hawk nodded.

“Appreciate it, Vinnie,” he said. “And everything else.”

Vinnie nodded and got out.

Hawk watched him get into his car and then drive away.

He sat thinking for a few minutes and then drove away himself.

#  _Chapter 41_

Stephanie called Hawk when he got home. She had been calling him a lot over the past few weeks but he didn’t ever answer because he was busy; and maybe because he just didn’t want to deal with her.

But tonight he answered. She seemed happy to talk to him, asked how he was, and then wondered if he would like to have dinner.

He was going to say no, but then thought why the hell not. Man needed to eat. Among other things.

They met at the Mediterranean Grill on State Street. Hawk had on a dark suit and tie, highly starched white shirt. Stephanie was wearing a stunning red dress with a plunging neckline. Her makeup and hair were perfect, and the perfume she was wearing hinted of cinnamon.

“You look good, Hawk,” Stephanie said after they were seated and the waiter took their drink orders. “But when do you not?”

“You ain’t bad on the eyes either, girl,” Hawk said.

They sat and stared at one another for a long time. The waiter returned with their drinks and asked about dinner. They took a few moments to consult their menus then ordered.

“So I guess you’ve been busy,” Stephanie said, sipping her glass of wine. “I’ve been calling, leaving messages, but I guess you had other things to do.”

Hawk tasted his vodka martini, looking at her over the rim of the glass.

“Always something to do,” he told her. “How things with you?”

“Well I’m really busy right now. It’s tax season you know. And I’ve got two classes to teach this quarter. Pretty full plate.”

Hawk nodded.

Stephanie put her glass down and leaned forward on the table, her breasts pressing against it and giving Hawk a very erotic view.

“But it’s not too full for some fun from time to time. Seeing friends, going out, and whatever else comes to mind.”

Hawk stared at her with a small gleam in his eyes. It probably didn’t mean what Stephanie thought it did, but it was there nonetheless. And this made her very happy.

Dinner arrived and they ate. The conversation was sparse, but there was a lot of the nonverbal taking place.

When they finished the waiter inquired about dessert but they both declined.

Although they had arrived separately Stephanie had taken a cab, so this meant they didn’t have to take separate cars.

Hawk drove to her place without saying a word.

When they arrived there was no conversation either, at least not verbal.

He spent four hours with her, leaving again at two in the morning.

This time, however, Stephanie did not complain, simply sat naked on the bed and watched as he dressed. Then she stood up and put her arms around his neck, crushing her voluptuous body against his as she kissed him.

Then he was gone.

Not a bad night at all, Hawk thought as he drove home.

Perfect ending to a very good day.

At least a good day for him.

For Roger Adderwood, not so much.

#  _Chapter 42_

Hawk had returned to a regular workout routine now that he wasn’t looking out for Rita every day.

He started out with a ten mile run along the harbor and then went by the Harbor Health Club for a couple hours with the weights and the bags.

On the following Friday he had just come out of the locker room freshly showered and dressed in street clothes when Henry Cimoli called him to his office in back. When Hawk got there he found Marty Quirk and Frank Belson.

“Now, Henry, how you expect to run a decent business if you just go lettin’ anybody in here?” Hawk said with a grin.

“Well he let you in here,” Belson said. “So obviously he don’t care much about his reputation.”

Hawk continued to grin as he faced the two Boston cops. Quirk had on a dark blue suit, light blue shirt, and red striped tie. Belson was wearing a brown suit and yellow shirt with some kind of floral print tie.

“See Lisa still picking out your ties, Sergeant,” Hawk said.

Belson glanced down briefly, then reluctantly smiled a little.

“Ain’t love something?” he said.

“Wouldn’t know,” Hawk told him seriously. “So to what do I owe the pleasure of the company of two of Boston’s very finest?”

“Public service,” Quirk said. “And as much as we really would like it to be different, Hawk, you are a part of the public that we have to service.”

Belson snorted but remained silent.

“Got word of a contract being bought on you, Hawk. Hundred grand.”

Hawk smiled even more.

“A measly hundred grand?” he said. “I’m kind of insulted.”

“Don’t kid yourself, Hawk,” Quirk said. “A hundred grand will get a lot of people’s interest. Probably none of them will be good as you, but it don’t mean they won’t try. Hell, I know some cops might take a run at you for that kind of bread.”

Belson snorted again.

“I know some in this room,” he said under his breath.

“Got any idea were the contract comes from?” Hawk said.

“No,” Quirk said. “This comes from a snitch Frank uses for some stuff. Low level, but with connections. Guy needed to get out of a jam he was in and it was one of the things he had to trade. Word about the contract. Don’t know much beyond the fact that it’s floating.”

“Well, Sergeant Frankie, I know it must break your heart to have to warn me like this.”

Belson looked at him for a few long moments then sighed.

“Protect and serve,” he said, then turned and glanced out the window to his left.

“So you figure this has something to do with this Adderwood guy?” Quirk said. “See, I heard this rumor that somebody’s been harassing certain criminal enterprises throughout the metro area and all of these outfits have one thing in common. A fella named Carmine Constantine. And according to what you’ve told me, and some independent checking on my own, I’ve discovered that Mr. Constantine is head of security for Mr. Roger Adderwood III. Now I’m wondering if perhaps he’s involved in a lot more bad business than we first suspected. Perhaps you could fill me in on some of the details if you know them, Hawk. Being civil-minded and all.”

Hawk stared back at the Homicide captain for a few seconds, then glanced out the same window as Belson.

“Now, Captain,” he said cheerily. “You know it’s bad news for a brotha to talk to the Man.”

“Hawk, this is serious,” Quirk said harshly. “There are bodies all over this thing, including two innocent kids who tried to help a complete stranger and got clipped for it, and a twenty-three year old girl that got butchered because she worked for Rita Fiore. I know Roger Adderwood is involved up to his eyeballs. Along with Constantine. But I got nothing to bust them on. And with Adderwood’s money and connections it ain’t likely that I’ll get any. At least not through regular channels. Which is why Frank and I are here. I know how you operate, Hawk. I know you like to handle things your own way and usually with a gun. Ordinarily I might be willing to let you do that, sew these fuckers up and plant them. But I don’t believe you’re gonna be able to do that with Adderwood. You’re gonna need help. Help from me and Frank, if not the whole department.”

Hawk stared at Quirk for a very long time. Henry Cimoli was sitting behind his desk listening to everything but feigning disinterest. Hawk glanced at him briefly before returning to Quirk.

“Rita didn’t tell you anything in the beginning because she didn’t want this fool to be able to hurt you, Martin,” Hawk said evenly. “He real dangerous. Worse, he real crazy. Constantine is a thug. And a mean one. But I know you dealt with his type before and could squash him like a toilet bug. Adderwood another matter. You go after him and the chances are not good for you or your cohort over there. Maybe your whole department. Leave Adderwood to me. Believe it or not, there is a plan at work here.”

Frank Belson actually laughed.

“Oh, getting a major contract put out on you is part of your plan?”

Hawk looked at the Homicide sergeant and smiled even wider.

“Of course it is, Sergeant,” he said.

Then he turned and left the office.

#  _Chapter 43_

They made a try for Hawk Sunday night as he was coming out of the market on Summer Street. They didn’t try to hide who they were or the reason they had come, simply drew weapons and came straight at him.

Not the smartest move they could have made, and the last mistake they ever would make.

Hawk had spotted one of them while he was still in the store paying for his groceries. So before he stepped outside he pulled the little .32 revolver he carried out of his pocket and palmed it.

He strolled toward his vehicle casually, whistling a tune. The parking lot was about half full and in the section where Hawk had parked there were only two other cars. One of the shooters was waiting behind it. He stood up with a short-barreled weapon and slowly raised it in Hawk’s direction.

Hawk didn’t break stride, simply slipped his right hand around the side of the grocery bag he carried and fired twice, hitting the man in the stomach with both rounds before he could squeeze off one.

The second shooter came from the left, having been up front by the store waiting until Hawk had come out. This was the man Hawk had seen from inside, and could have taken out first had he not been interested in seeing if there was more than one.

Now the second man sprung into action, drawing a sawed-off double barrel from under his coat.

Hawk sat his bag down and darted toward one of the other vehicles in the lot, drawing a Glock pistol from a holster at the small of his back. He crouched down and peered around the side of the car just in time to see the second shooter start to sprint toward him.

Idiot, Hawk thought, then stood up and shot him twice in the chest, dropping him in nearly the same heap as his pal.

Hawk stood and waited for several minutes to see if there were any others. None appeared and soon sirens could be heard approaching fast.

Hawk thought about leaving but then decided not to. Cops would probably get his description, plus the store had surveillance cameras. Best to wait and deal with them now. Besides, Quirk had warned him this was likely to happen and now the captain could say “I told you so”.

When the first prowl car arrived Hawk was leaning against his SUV with his hands in plain sight, two corpses on the ground just a few feet away.

The reaction from the cops was to be expected, and Hawk complied with their instructions. Well, all but the one where they wanted him to lie down in the snow with his arms and legs spread apart. Too cold for that he had told them. And after several attempts the cops agreed and told him he could keep standing while they checked him for additional weapons. And there were many.

An hour later Belson and Quirk arrived, the sergeant seeming to smirk more than normal. A happy man no doubt. Probably be a lot happier if maybe Hawk was being loaded into one of the body bags.

Well, Sergeant, Hawk thought as they approached, you can’t always get what you want. Something Roger Adderwood was beginning to learn very well.

#  _Chapter 44_

“Manny King and Joe Tanner. Two of the lowest of the low-life scum around this city. No principles, no class, shoot anybody. Kids, old ladies, dogs. Real trash. Nobody gonna miss them much. If at all.”

Hawk nodded as he sipped coffee sitting across from Tony Marcus’ desk in his office at the Buddy Fox on Monday morning.

“Just two guys looking to make some bread off the contract Adderwood put out. And make a name for themselves by taking me out.”

Tony grunted and sipped his own coffee.

“Yeah. Be somthin’ they can brag about clipping the famous Hawk. And I be real surprised if those fools had pulled it off.”

“If they had had a little more sense they might have had a chance,” Hawk said. “If they hadn’t let me see them from inside the store.”

“No matter,” Tony said. “They fuck it up some other way. Like I said, no class, no talent, just street thugs. And you did the world a favor. Not to mention the city.”

“Cops don’t necessarily see it that way,” Hawk said. “At least not officially.”

“Cops don’t give a fuck about that garbage, man. Probably just as glad as anybody they gone. Shit on ‘em and that the end of it.”

Hawk finished his coffee and set the cup down on a saucer on Tony’s desk.

“So you hear anything more about Adderwood?” Hawk said.

“Other than he want you dead,” Tony said. “And I can’t exactly tie his name to that. Carmine Constantine is frontin’ on this. And since we know he Adderwood’s bitch, we pretty much sho’ it’s the big honkie. Just can’t prove it in court. If you was inclined to go that route.”

Hawk stared at the mob boss in silence for a long time.

“You got anymore on his business dealings? The illegal variety.”

“Nothing but what I already tole you. But I’m keeping my ear out. Got some people that owe me favors. I let you know if something come up. But I got somethin’ I want to ask you, Hawk. If you don’t mind.”

Hawk was silent again, then nodded.

“You doin’ this on your own, right?”

Hawk nodded.

“That big honkie PI with all the rules ain’t involved?”

Hawk shook his head, growing slightly impatient.

“So then why don’t you just go clip this fool and be done with it? Take Carmine too. Hell, waste every gun on his payroll. ‘Tween you and Vinnie Morris it shouldn’t be too much trouble. And I can probably lend you Leonard again, maybe even Ty-Bop for a short time.”

Hawk was reflective, staring at nothing in particular. He took a deep breath and released it slowly, then did it again.

Finally he stood up and looked down at Marcus.

“Probably gonna come to that sooner or later. But I think right now we keep it the way it’s going. See what develops. Rita Fiore out the way now and safe. He can’t get to her. Don’t nobody else matter far as I’m concerned. I can fuck with him much as I want. See how he like it. See how many hitters he hire before he get tired.”

“What if one of them get lucky and take you?”

“Then I deserve to get took,” Hawk said.

“But it ain’t likely,” Tony Marcus admitted. “And in the meantime I’m sure that honkie cop Quirk is working on this from his end. Maybe if Adderwood keep pushing he make a mistake that Quirk can nail him on.”

“Now that a thought, Tony,” Hawk said with a dark grin. “Too bad I never considered it.”

Tony grinned, too, and pushed back in his chair.

“The fuck you didn’t, nigga. Now get out of here and go piss off the white folk some mo’.”

Hawk nodded and left.

#  _Chapter 45_

“And you’re sure you’re all right?” Rita said.

“Quite sure,” Hawk said. “Not a scratch on me.”

“Well I wish I was there to check for myself,” Rita said in a husky voice. “I’d look in every nook and cranny. Right now I’d love to run my tongue all over every inch of that gorgeous ebony body of yours, Hawk.”

Hawk chuckled and adjusted his position on the sofa in his living room. It was after nine o’clock and he had only been home a little while, having spent most of the day out with Vinnie doing reconnaissance.

“Keep talking like that, girl, and I might have to catch a plane real soon.”

“Fine by me,” she said. “This place has plenty of room. And all your friends out here are really nice.”

“Well they ain’t exactly friends,” Hawk told her. “But I trust them. Especially Chollo. He do what he say and don’t back down from nobody. Probably one of the two fastest shooters I ever seen.”

“Faster than you?” Rita said.

“But not better looking,” Hawk replied.

“Of course not. Is Vinnie the other one? The shooter?”

“He is,” Hawk confirmed. “Real quick for a little fella. But again, not nearly as good looking.”

Rita laughed and this made Hawk feel good for some reason. Although he would never admit this to her, probably not to himself either, he actually missed having her around; and not just for the sex. She was good company. A smart and funny person with a keen mine and a sharp wit. Then there was the matter of those legs… and the rest of her.

“So they are treating you right out there?” Hawk said after a while.

“Oh yes,” Rita said. “Everyone is really nice. Even this Vincent del Rio character who seems to be the boss. Kind of reminds me of the guy who played Mr. Rourke on ‘Fantasy Island’. Handsome, too.”

“Don’t let the charm fool you, lover. Del Rio ain’t no saint. None of ‘em are. Just like me.”

“Nobody’s like you, baby,” she told him. “And you know it.”

“Yeah, what I hear,” Hawk told her.

Silence followed.

Eventually Rita broke it.

“So do you have any idea how long this is going to take, this thing with Roger? I mean it’s really nice out here but my life is back there in Boston. I can’t stay here forever.”

“I know,” Hawk told her. “But I don’t have a handle on a time frame just yet. Hopefully not too much longer. I’m working on it. Maybe a couple weeks if things go right.”

“Well make sure they go right,” Rita said. “And make sure you stay alive so I can properly reward you for all your hard work and dedication.”

Hawk grinned.

“I look forward to that part,” he said. “Very much.”

They talked for a little while longer, mostly silly sex talk, then said good night.

Hawk went into the kitchen and got a bottle of beer out of the fridge and leaned against the counter as he drank it, thinking.

By the time the beer was gone he had come to a decision.

He went back into the living room and got his coat and keys and then went out once more.

#  _Chapter 46_

Carmine Constantine had a place on Bowen Street in South Boston. Didn’t look like much, but that wasn’t uncommon. A lot of bad guys didn’t like to advertise how much money they had by living in fancy surroundings. Apparently Carmine Constantine was one of them. Maybe working for a guy like Roger Adderwood made him appreciate the simple life more.

Hawk got there a little after eleven, having taken the time after leaving his place to acquire a vehicle that could not be traced to him.

First he drove around the neighborhood casually to get a feel for the area, then found a spot to park where he could observe without detection. He sat for three hours until everything was quiet, then he got out of the car and started to walk around the neighborhood in the lightly falling snow, keeping to the shadows and dark places.

Carmine wasn’t much for personal security and it didn’t take Hawk more than a minute to defeat the lock on his back door and let himself in. No alarm, no guard dog, just darkness and silence.

Hawk moved quietly through the downstairs, finding what he expected, including a couple of concealed handguns. Upstairs he found a few more, and a very illegal shotgun.

Carmine’s bedroom was in the back, the door open slightly. Snoring could be heard coming from down the hall.

Hawk approached carefully, the soles of his shoes making no sound. The door to the bedroom did squeak, but he moved it very slowly until there was enough space for him to enter.

Carmine lay in the middle of a king sized bed, on his back like he was king of the place. The snoring was even louder now and Hawk realized that he probably could have just stomped around downstairs and Carmine never would have heard him.

He stood for a few minutes glancing around at the dark room, then sighed and pulled a small caliber pistol from his pocket.

“Hey, Carmine!” he called in a loud whisper.

Carmine didn’t move.

Hawk called louder and the snoring stopped immediately.

Carmine rolled onto his side then pushed up, confusion registering across his taunt face.

“What the fuck? Who in here?”

“Me,” Hawk said, stepping toward the bed. “Guy you and your boss been tryin’ to ace these past few weeks. And gettin’ nowhere.”

Confusion became fear and Carmine immediately rolled to the left side of the bed, reaching for the nightstand drawer.

Hawk shot him in the left knee and Carmine howled, grabbing at his wound and rolling around on the bed.

“Now, Carmine,” Hawk said calmly. “That wasn’t nice. I might just be here to talk. But now look at what’s happened. You bleedin’ all over the place. Now I gotta clean this piece later on. Well, maybe, if I don’t use it for somethin’ a little mo’ drastic.”

Carmine Constantine lay back on the bed, his leg raised as he clutched his knee, whimpering. Hawk stepped closer.

“It time for Adderwood to understand some things, Carmine. And I figure you and me have a talk and maybe you can explain them to him. But if you don’t feel like it, maybe I just pop you and go have that talk direct with the bossman. What you think?”

Carmine continued to whimper, but managed to convey his desire to listen.

“Good,” Hawk said casually. “Now here we go…”

#  _Chapter 47_

Hawk finished his workout at the Harbor Health Club and was dressed in a dark gray three piece suit, black overcoat, and expensive dark shades. Henry Cimoli grinned when he saw him step out of the locker room.

“Hawk, you ought to be on the cover of GQ or something, man. Nobody got class and style like you. And nobody can bust somebody up like you neither. Well, other than Spenser, but he can’t dress worth shit.”

“Got that right,” Hawk said, adjusting his shades and glancing around, spotting a couple of workout bunnies over by one of the machines in the main chamber checking him out. “Man still dress like he fifteen.”

“Heard from him and the Ph.D. since they been gone?”

“Every weekend,” Hawk said. “They call to check on the dog. He with the cop, Lee Farrell, most of the time, but for some reason they call me for updates.”

Henry laughed again, nodding. Hawk could tell something was bothering the man because Henry was not known for making small talk, which was one of the reasons he and Hawk got along so well, but now here he was doing just that, and he seemed distracted.

“Henry, we need to go in your office and talk?” Hawk said.

Henry looked at Hawk for a few long moments, then sighed and turned in that direction. Hawk followed.

Henry sat down behind his desk as Hawk shut the door and took off his coat, hanging it on the rack by the door. He came over to the desk, pulled one of the chairs back, dropped into it, his long legs outstretched.

“What?” he said simply, his eyes still covered by the shades.

“Somebody came by and made me an offer for the place yesterday,” Henry said. “Lot of money, probably a lot more than this place is worth. I take it, I could retire and live a life of leisure for the rest of my days. Probably get out of this fuckin’ town and go some place warm. Maybe find a senorita to go along with me.”

Hawk snickered. “Well if you gotta pay for ‘em…”

Henry frowned and shook his head.

“Not what I meant, Hawk. And not the point I was making either.”

Hawk studied the little man he had known for most of his life. He might have been small, but he was in the best shape of anybody Hawk knew, and nobody with a brain wanted to get into a physical confrontation with him. Something was bothering him and Hawk had an inkling of what it was.

“Who made the offer?”

“I don’t know exactly,” Henry told him, leaning his massive arms on the back of his desk. “That’s part of the problem. Offer is too good, and they want to close right away. I wasn’t even looking to sell, doing great and not looking to retire for another ten years or more, long as I got my health.”

“So somebody just show up out of the blue and offer to buy the place for more than it’s worth. And they want the deal done yesterday. And you don’t know who behind it?”

“Yeah. And another thing...”

“Let me guess,” Hawk interrupted. “Whoever was making the offer gave you the feeling that if you didn’t accept it, there might be trouble?”

Henry stared back at him for some time and then nodded.

“Yeah.”

“Roger Adderwood,” Hawk said in a low, deadly tone. “Boy just don’t wanna listen.”

“Who Adderwood?” Henry said.

“Fool been messin’ with Rita Fiore and been comin’ after me since she gone and he can’t find her. Now he comin’ after you.”

“And he’s punishing me by offering me a lot of money?” Henry said. “Well a few more like him and I might feel like retiring and moving south.”

“Money don’t matter to Adderwood,” Hawk told him. “He buy this place and then burn it to the ground. Don’t matter to him. He probably found out I workout here. This a message to me, and a dumb one. You wanna sell, Henry?”

“Well not now, to that asshole.”

“Well then don’t worry about it. I take care of it. But you do need to be careful for a while, especially around closing time when you by yourself. Matter of fact, I think I gonna arrange for somebody to be here when you do close up, if I can’t do it myself.”

Henry looked worried now, silent in contemplation.

“You think he come after me to get at you?”

“Tryin’ to get me ain’t exactly been workin’ for him lately, Henry. And I don’t have a lot of friends. Suppose he could go after Vinnie Morris but even I don’t know where he live. Plus it’s Vinnie, his rep on the street like mine. Don’t worry too much though, I’ll get you covered. And I gonna deal with the problem head on from now on.”

Henry was nodding when Hawk stood and went over to collect his coat. He slipped it back on, glanced once at the health club owner, then turned and left without another word.

Henry Cimoli was feeling worse than he had before his talk with Hawk, but he could take comfort in the other man’s word. He always said what he meant, and did what he said.

That being beside the point, Henry pulled open the top right hand drawer of his desk and glanced inside. The stainless steel Smith and Wesson .40 gave him even more comfort.

#  _Chapter 48_

Carmine Constantine was not at home when Hawk went to see him once again, the deadline for a reconnect having passed the previous evening with no contact. The place wasn’t locked, and it wasn’t cleaned up either. Before Hawk had left last time he had helped Carmine stop the bleeding in his leg, wrapped it good and tight and told him if he got it stitched up pretty quick he should be all right. Unless he got blood poisoning.

The bed was still a mess, blood all over it and a trail led to the bathroom, but no Carmine. He had been ringing the house phone and cell numbers for the better part of the day, but no response. So he had come over after dark, being careful to make sure Carmine didn’t have an ambush party planned. But there was no one. Not outside or inside. Things did not look good for Mr. Constantine.

Hawk checked with Tony Marcus the next day and found that there was no word on Carmine, no one had seen him, no one reported missing him either. Probably nobody cared.

Next day Quirk called. Constantine surfaced. Literally.

“All the shit get dumped in Boston Harbor and somebody gotta go and add this piece of garbage,” Belson said as he stood with Quirk and Hawk staring down at the lifeless body of Carmine Constantine at nine on a cold and windy morning. He had definitely looked better.

“Both eyes gone, looks like they were gouged out,” Quirk said. “Throat cut, tongue cut out, balls gone, too, still got his pecker, not that it does him much good now. Only one gunshot, a leg wound, looked to be healing a little when he bought it, according to the M.E.”

Hawk was silent, feeling the police captain’s gaze rest on him.

“Kind of like somebody didn’t like this fella,” Belson said.

“List be a long one,” Hawk intoned.

“You on it?” Belson said.

“What you think, Sergeant?” Hawk said.

“I think you would have just shot him,” Quirk said. “And maybe you did. The rest of the gory stuff was somebody else. Any idea who?”

Hawk sighed and rotated his neck from side to side.

“Could never prove it,” he said. “But my guess be Roger Adderwood. Carmine worked for him, and he probably didn’t like something Carmine did, or failed to do.”

“Like popping you?” Belson said. “Failing to do it, I mean?”

“Maybe,” Hawk said.

“This Adderwood guy is bad news,” Quirk mused, watching as two morgue attendants rolled a gurney with a black plastic bag on top up to where the corpse lay. “Thinks he can do whatever he wants and get away with it.”

“So far that been the case, Captain. Man got money and a lot of powerful friends. He don’t play by nobody’s rules, even his own. All the stuff we know ‘bout him and we still can’t touch him. Or at least the law can’t.”

Quirk turned to face Hawk again, staring up at him with cool blue eyes.

“Hawk, I know what you’re thinking. Stop it now. We’ll find a way to nail Adderwood, legal and aboveboard. Don’t need you going vigilante and causing a blood bath. Enough dead people on this thing already. You got Rita out and safe so that’s it for you right now. Let me and Frank worry about getting this guy the right way.”

Hawk didn’t respond and after a while Quirk turned to Belson.

“Where’s Farrell?”

“Over in the dock supervisor’s office asking questions of those workers who were out here when the body was spotted floating a few hours ago.”

Quirk nodded, glanced at Hawk some more, then sighed and walked off.

Belson and Hawk watched the body of Carmine Constantine being loaded up and strapped down, then rolled away. After a couple minutes of silence, and without turning his head, Belson spoke in a low voice.

“Marty’s a good guy, tough as hell, too, believes in the job, doing things the right way. I believe in that, too, it’s why I became a cop instead of a hood. Thing is, I know what we do ain’t always justice, and some people never get punished. If they got money, influence, clout. People like Roger Adderwood.”

More silence followed, a few minutes at least. Hawk waited.

Finally Belson sighed again.

“Marty knows you. I know you. Too bad Adderwood don’t.”

With that, Belson turned and walked away.

Hawk stood staring at the cold harbor for another few minutes, all around him the cops were packing up. He didn’t really pay attention to any of it, his mind focused elsewhere.

Things yet to be done.

#  _Chapter 49_

Henry Cimoli formally declined the offer to buy his club the morning after he and Hawk talked. Two nights later, Friday night, Henry was leaving around eleven after having finished going over spread sheets while the clean up crew worked. He always parked his little red Corvette in back of the place, just outside the door. He came out into the cold night air, glanced around to make sure he was alone, the lighting back here very good for that, then he set the interior alarm and shut and locked the door.

He was just getting into his car when a black van pulled into the alley and blocked his car, the doors already opening and men spilling out. Henry was reaching under his jacket for his _Forty_ when the first shots rang out, and men started hitting the ground. The shots came from two directions, and the men from the van never knew which before they died.

Hawk and Vinnie Morris came out of the shadows from north and south of the alley, weapons raised, triggers being calmly pulled over and over again until there was no more threat. When Hawk reached Henry, the ex-prize fighter was holding his unused pistol down by his side. He looked very relieved not to have had to use it.

“Guess that guy wasn’t happy I turned his offer down,” Henry said.

“Yeah,” Hawk agreed, watching as Vinnie checked the bodies of the men on the ground, and the one still in the van slumped at the driver’s wheel. “Looks like. Of course, this could be some of your members upset about the ridiculous prices you been charging lately.”

Henry smirked, set the safety on his weapon, and put it away. Vinnie put his away as well and came over to Hawk.

“They all dead,” he said without a trace of emotion.

Hawk nodded. “Henry, get out of here, go home and pretend this never happened. Vinnie and I’ll take care of everything.”

Henry looked at Hawk with a raised brow for a few seconds, then glanced at Vinnie who shrugged. Henry shrugged himself, then got in his car and pulled out after Vinnie moved the van.

“Think somebody called the cops?” Vinnie said once they were alone.

“Don’t hear no sirens,” Hawk said. “And in this neighborhood this time of night, nobody want to get involved in anything gun related. Think we fine. Let’s load ‘em up and send them back to where they come from.”

Vinnie Morris smiled for the first time in days, pulling a pair of rubber gloves from his jacket pocket. Hawk did the same thing, minus the smile.

#  _Chapter 50_

Boston PD patrol officers responded to a call in the exclusive Back Bay area of the city at just after two Saturday morning, the report of a black van crashing into the front gates of the estate belonging to the all-powerful Adderwood family. When responding officers arrived they were prepared for blood, maybe even some gore, after all, it was a traffic accident. However, what they were not prepared for was the five dead bodies in the van, none of them appearing to have expired from injuries sustained in the crash into the ornate double wrought iron gates. All had been shot multiple times, and each had a firearm of their own in their dead hands. This resulted in a quick call to the patrol supervisor. When she arrived and found out what they had, her call was to the precinct night watch commander. Several other calls quickly followed, including to the Night Duty Superintendent at Headquarters in Roxbury Crossing.

Marty Quirk got his call at home.

So did Frank Belson.

By the time the two senior members of the city’s overworked (especially recently) homicide division arrived, it was a full circus, media included.

“One guess who was responsible for this,” Belson said as he and Quirk were preparing to step out into the cold night and harsh glare of the camera lights.

Quirk shook his head. “No.”

A thousand questions were shouted at them before they made it five feet, and neither man made any attempt to answer them. They stepped under the crime scene tape as the senior patrol supervisor on the scene made her way to them.

“Sandy, you just had to get us out here on an early and cold Saturday morning, didn’t you?” Belson said to the thick necked short black woman who approached them in heavy winter patrol gear.

Sergeant Sandy Wright grinned at him.

“Yeah, least I could do, Frank. Your wife called and said how much your snoring was getting on her nerves and it was all she could do to keep from putting a pillow over your face.”

Belson snorted, then laughed, Quirk did neither.

“What you got, Sergeant?” the Homicide Commander said, all business.

The joviality disappeared from Wright’s face then and she turned and addressed Quirk.

“Real mess here, Captain,” she explained, which Quirk thought was an understatement. “Looks like a bunch of dead guys stole a van out of Lincoln Park and then drove over here and crashed into the front gates of the Adderwood estate. Nobody hurt on the property, other than the gates. Adderwood’s butler has been down to inspect the damage, he seemed distraught, probably more about the gates than the dead guys.”

Quirk nodded, glancing around.

“The butler? What about the Adderwoods? Edna Adderwood and her son Roger are listed as the official residents.”

“Yes, sir,” said Wright. “But thus far our efforts to reach either of them have been rebuffed. They’ve already called their lawyers. Bigwigs from Cone, Oakes, and Baldwin. The lieutenant talked to one of them already. Claims he’s the firm’s managing partner.”

Quirk glanced at Belson, the other cop raised his brows.

“Any ID on the dead guys?” he asked.

“No, sir, they’re clean. Running prints and the guns to see what we can learn. Two white, one Latino, the other two black.”

“Now see that, Captain,” Belson said snidely. “Crime is becoming more racially diverse. Guess affirmative action has finally paid off.”

Wright laughed, Quirk did not.

“Sergeant, get some of your people to get this gate open, I want to go up to the house and talk to whoever is home.”

Wright looked a little uncertain for a few moments, then nodded. “Yes, sir.”

When they were kind of alone, Belson whispered. “You think that’s a good idea, Marty?”

“I think it’s my job, Frank. And I think it’s high time that I started doing it.”

Five minutes later the gate was open and Quirk walked in, followed closely by Belson and Sergeant Wright.

#  _Chapter 51_

Hawk was finishing his workout at the Harbor Health Club late Monday morning when Henry led Quirk and Belson into the chamber that no one used except Hawk and Spenser, occasionally the owner himself. The two cops wore grave expressions, but that was nothing new. Once Henry was sure there wouldn’t be violence, he said he had to go and check on his customers.

“Five corpses landed on Roger Adderwood’s front door over the weekend, Hawk?” Belson said, chewing on the back end of an unlit cigar. “All hard guys with long records. Shot to pieces with two different guns. You wouldn’t know anything about that, would you?”

Hawk wiped his face and gleaming head with a thick towel before turning to the duo and grinning.

“Now, Sergeant Frankie, how would I, an upstanding citizen of the Commonwealth, know anything about such dastardly events as the ones you have described?”

Belson actually grinned, Quirk did not.

“Even though we got good ballistics,” Quirk said. “I know we’d never tie the bullets to any gun you ever owned. Or Vinnie Morris for that matter. Not that either of you actually has a gun license. What’s going on, Hawk? Those guys take a run at you like the others, so you decide to send them back to the man you believe hired them?”

“Don’t know what you talkin’ ‘bout, Captain,” Hawk replied, now draping the towel around his shoulders.”

Quirk stared at him hard for a long time, and Hawk never flinched. As usual.

Finally Quirk shook his head in disgust.

“This gotta end, Hawk,” he said quietly. “Gotta end. We talked to Adderwood Saturday morning, and you’re right, he’s fucking nuts. Hard to believe he’s running a major criminal enterprise, and even harder to believe we didn’t know about it until recently. I can tell how dangerous he is, even though he likes to use big words that us dumb cops don’t understand. He’s mean and nasty. A real piece of work. Not gonna listen to reason, not gonna be easy for us to catch either.”

Hawk considered Quirk for several minutes. Essentially he liked Marty Quirk, but Quirk was a cop and that meant they could never be friends, not that Hawk really had friends. But he respected the man, and Belson, too. Both good men.

But this was not a fight for good men. It never was.

Quirk and Belson left a few minutes later.

Hawk was out of the shower when his cell phone buzzed. He answered, not happy when he heard the voice on the other end of the line.

This changed when Ives told him to come to his office right away. There had been a development.

And there indeed had.

#  _Chapter 52_

Roger Adderwood had a meeting at the governor’s mansion Tuesday morning and left his estate in the Back Bay at eight-fifteen in back of his chauffer-driven Mercedes Towncar. It was a cloudy and cold day, drifts of slushy snow plowed to the side of the roads. The driver was careful as he proceeded to the second intersection which would lead them to the main thoroughfare. They would never make that destination.

A blue Volvo pulled into the intersection and cut them off, and behind them, a black SUV cut them off from that direction. Leonard asked the driver to get out of the Mercedes if he wanted to see the sun set today, figuratively because it was doubtful that anyone in the city would see the sun at all that day. The man apparently did have this desire, judging by the ease at which he departed the Towncar. Leonard replaced him behind the wheel, opening the rear doors with the front control panel before Adderwood could object.

Hawk slipped inside and got comfortable, the long barrel of his .44 across his lap, business end pointing at Adderwood. Adderwood was incensed, opened his mouth to object, and quickly found himself bleeding from the mouth when Hawk’s gloved right fist lashed out. They drove in silence after that.

The two other cars disappeared and Leonard drove south, heading out of Boston, no fixed destination in mind, just seeing the sights. Once they were clear of the city and on the open road, Hawk turned and looked at his back seat companion.

“You know, if it hadn’t been for Rita Fiore, I’d have blasted your ass a couple months ago, but she didn’t want you hurt. She a good lady. A good person. I ain’t. Neither is my friend behind the wheel.”

“Look, boy,” Adderwood cut in, receiving, this time, the barrel of the aforementioned .44 across his lips.

“I don’t care if you call me boy or not, Roger,” Hawk said with a grin. “Just you tryin’ to pretend you tough, and you ain’t afraid of me. ‘Course with your boy Carmine gone, plus a lot of others, we both know you scared shitless. But I don’t like being interrupted while I talk. Okay?”

Adderwood was holding his bloody mouth with both hands and was unable to respond in the affirmative.

“So let us chat here. Only way you get out of this alive is to agree to my terms here and now. If you say no, you gonna die. And before you get all high and mighty again about your connections and all the powerful people you know, you should know I don’t give a shit about that. I do you and do all of them, too. But I just learned something about you that I didn’t know till yesterday. Something real interesting that a lot of people don’t know ‘bout, least of all them fancy big shots you like to hang with. The governor you was on your way to see this morning, for one. You laundering millions of dollars in dirty money for the Chinese, Rog old buddy. In fact, there’s two cargo ships headed into ports in New York and Los Angeles today, each carrying somewhere in the neighborhood of fifty million bucks in ill-gotten loot. A lot of bread. What you think the Chinese do to you, not to mention yo’ mama, if all that money get seized, or worse, get burned up if those two ships suddenly caught fire and sank?”

Adderwood’s hands dropped to his lap, his fancy dress shirt stained with his blood. He tried to speak, but his mouth wouldn’t work right.

“You’re done with Rita,” Hawk told him coldly. “In fact, you done in Boston. I give you till the end of next month to get gone from here, pack up your whole operation and move somewhere else. Don’t care where. Take your moms with you. No reason you should ever darken this city or state again. You don’t agree right now, Roger, you won’t live to see tomorrow. And I won’t be the one dropping the hammer on you. That’ll be the Chinese.”

Hawk paused and glanced out the window. A minute later, he turned back to Adderwood.

“Or maybe the Russians when they find out you been secretly supplying militias in Chechnya with munitions behind their back. Then there’re the Iranians…”

Nothing else needed to be said.

#  _EPILOGUE_

Rita was home by the weekend, arriving on the same private charter she had departed on, Chollo and Bobby Horse with her. Rita looked gorgeous and Hawk found it a little hard to believe she had been on a plane across country for more than five hours. She came up to him and threw her arms around his neck, pressing her lips to his. Hawk held her close for a few moments, then glanced over at the two West Coast shooters.

Hands were shaken, promises of favors to be returned passed along with many thanks to the del Rio crew, and then the men from LA got back on the plane for the return trip once refueling was taken care of.

In the front seat of Hawk’s Escalade was Pearl the Wonder Dog. After loading the luggage into the back, Hawk opened the passenger’s door for Rita and glanced in at Pearl. After a few seconds she understood that it was time to change seats and moved into the second row. Rita climbed in and Hawk went around and got in behind the wheel, reaching for the ignition key.

Rita stopped him, pulled his hand toward her, depositing it on her right breast as she grinned up at him.

“Haven’t felt the touch of a beautiful black man in over a month,” she said to him.

“How about an Indian or a Mexican?” Hawk said.

Rita laughed.

“Think I’ll be pleading the Fifth there, big fella.”

Hawk smiled, leaned over and kissed her lips, his right hand never moving from where it rested. In back, Pearl sat and watched them with growing impatience and annoyance at having had to give up her seat. When she started to whimper, Hawk pulled back from Rita and stared at the dog. He reached back and stroked her snout.

“Better get going,” he said to Rita. “Got plans already set up for tonight, and need to drop our friend back there off with Lee Farrell along the way.”

Rita smiled and leaned her head over onto Hawk’s shoulder as he started the engine.

“Plans, huh?” she said. “Do I figure in your plans at all?”

Hawk snorted, slipping into his seatbelt.

“Baby, tonight you _is_ my plan.”

And off they were.

APPROXIMATELY THREE WEEKS LATER, Roger Adderwood left for Europe on an extended business trip. He never returned to Boston, and after repeated queries and then pleas to the police, FBI, and Interpol, a desperate Edna Adderwood asked the family attorney to find the best and smartest private investigator for-hire in the Commonwealth and pay them whatever fee they demanded, just as long as they were the best. And when they found her beloved Roger, return him home to his mother, alive and safe.

Attorney Melvin Atchison visited Spenser in his office on Boylston Street one breezy late spring day and offered him the assignment, following his instructions and telling the man whom he had been assured was the best private eye in the city that money was no object as long as he got the results his client demanded.

Spenser smiled and said _hot diggity dog_! He had been waiting his entire professional career for someone to say those words to him. However, he did not ask Mr. Atchison to sit. Instead Spenser rose and came around the front of his desk, staring down at the much smaller man in a tailored suit that likely cost more than Spenser’s car. And all his guns.

“I’d like to help you, Mr. Atchison, I really would. But you see, for the foreseeable future I will not be able to take on any new cases as I’m going to be far too busy having my nipples pierced. And when that’s done, I have an appointment to have my balls waxed. It’s a big job, could take years.”

Yes, Boston’s top sleuth had heard the full story, most of it anyway, about Roger Adderwood’s exploits regarding Rita Fiore during his absence from town. And like Hawk, he didn’t give a damn if the man was ever seen or heard from again.

And knowing Hawk as he did, it was highly likely that Adderwood never would be.

_THE END_

[‡‡] See _Small Vices_ by Robert B. Parker.

[§§] Nickname Hawk had for Rita when she worked in the District Attorney’s Office.

[***] See _Double Deuce_ by Robert B. Parker.

[†††] Third Season opener of the _Spenser for-hire_ television series on ABC, titled _Homecoming_.

[‡‡‡] Organized Crime.

[§§§] See _Potshot_ by Robert B. Parker.


End file.
